


The Blood of Gods

by Sosh_022



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Percy Jackson Fusion, Badass Clarke, Clarke and Luna are bros, Demi God AU, Demigod!Clarke, Demigod!Lexa, Eventual OP! Clarke, F/F, F/M, Greek/Roman Mythology - Freeform, Titus is a teddy bear hating prick, hints of canon sprinkled throughout, i'm honestly terrible at fluff but i am trying my best
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2020-03-13 21:58:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 47,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18949459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sosh_022/pseuds/Sosh_022
Summary: Lexa, the praetor of Camp Polis for Roman demigods, decides that the only way to beat the Mountain is to ask their dreaded Greek counterparts for help, Camp Ark. The two camps have worked together before but they only barely managed to get along. However, she is desperate. They are expecting the usual team, Bellamy and his friends, only it's not Bellamy who comes.Enter, Clarke Griffin.





	1. Prologue

"We don't need their help, Heda. We are perfectly capable of doing this on our own. The Graecus will only slow us down," Indra insisted indignantly, rushing forward to speak as soon as Lexa finished talking.

"I agree with Senator Indra," Gustus cut in, his distaste of Lexa's latest proposal dripping in his tone. "The Greeks are unpredictable and untamable. I do not like the idea of inviting them into our homes again." His eyes narrowed at the mention of last time. "We cannot trust them."

Lexa sighed to herself as the Senate seemed to lose any and all semblance of order after that. The Senators scrambled to talk over each other, all yelling some variation of how the Graecus could not be trusted.

Lexa turned her attention to the person who sat closest to her right. Anya, her long time friend and mentor as well as the oldest serving member of the Senate present, had stayed quiet throughout this entire ordeal and for that Lexa was grateful. She could see it in the hard lines set in her friend's face that though she didn't necessarily like the idea Lexa had proposed, she understood it was a smart move, maybe the only move that would lead them to victory.

With that in mind, Lexa stood up, slamming her palms onto the table in front of her and effectively quieting the forum.

"En pleni."

The Senators, to their credit, stilled in their protests and slowly lowered their bottoms back onto their seats. Lexa let her gaze land on each Senator firmly, just to make sure they all understood that she was the one talking now and they would do their best to listen.

"I understand your distrust and dislike of our Greek counterparts," she started and hardened her glare as several Senators shifted in their seats as if about to voice their complaints again. "However," her voice rang out clear and strong in the forum. "We. Can. Not. Defeat. The. Mountain. Alone."

She watched, waiting to see if anyone would protest her previous statement. There were none. Good.

"We have tried, and we have failed." She paused, letting the gravity of the statement sink in. They'd lost more than hundreds of their brothers and sisters throughout their history to the dreaded Mountain.

"We have worked with the Greeks before, and we can do it again."

Lexa wanted to say that there had been no problems working with the Greeks previously, but that would be a blatant lie. They had so many problems at the beginning of their newfound co-existence. Just thinking about the amount of effort and patience it took to get the two camps to cooperate was giving Lexa a headache.

"We have to work together, if only for the sake of your brothers and sisters who have been captured, tortured, and experimented on in the Mountain. The Mountain has tormented us for too long! We will no longer hide from it. Down with the mountain!" Lexa declared.

There was only a second of silence.

"Down with the mountain! Down with the mountain! Down with the mountain!"

Taking a deep breath, Lexa relaxed into her seat. The chants inside the forum only got louder and louder. Her eyes raked across the room, before landing on Anya. They met grim stares. Anya gave her the slightest of nods which Lexa returned with a slight tilt of her head.

The decision was made. They would contact the Greeks for help.


	2. The Landing

 

"The message has been sent," Anya announced, striding into the praetor's office. Lincoln tailed in just on her heel, closing the door behind him as he entered.

"Good," said Lexa, not even looking up from her desk where she was skimming through a rather impressive pile of paperwork. "You made sure you were clear on just how important this quest is?"

"Of course," Lincoln nodded his head. "We made it very clear that they should only send the most competent of their demigods given that this is a very dangerous quest."

"They have asked us for help several times before while we've never once asked for help from them so they better bloody well send their best demigods," Anya commented sharply.

"Though that probably means they'll just be sending Bellamy and his friends again," Lincoln pointed out. Every time the Greeks and Romans had to work together it was always Lexa's team and Bellamy's team, much to Anya's dismay.

"Let's hope Bellamy and his friends are less of a trouble this time than last time," said Lexa as her mind continued to ponder on the massiveness of this operation.

"Doubt it," Anya snorted, coming to stand in front of Lexa.

"Anya, behave," Lexa shot her friend a pointed look knowing just how much Bellamy got on Anya's nerves.

"No promises, Commander," Anya quipped back sassily and it was only because of their long time friendship and mentorship that Lexa let the comment slide so easily.

"They really weren't that bad," Lincoln shrugged.

Anya turned to him sharply. "You're soft."

"If everything goes smoothly Bellamy should be here in three days time," said Lexa, interrupting their petty banter. She lifted her head briefly to eye the calendar she kept on the wall to her left. Both Anya and Lincoln mirrored her movement.

"Their usual bunkers have already been prepared for them," Lincoln reported. There was a moment as the three Romans stood in silence. There was nothing else to be said. They were finally going to war with the mountain.

"I hope this plan of yours works," Anya gave Lexa a pointed look.

Lexa sighed, letting a rare moment of vulnerability slip through her usually carefully crafted facade.

"It will work. It has to."

Anya nodded satisfied and left the room with Lincoln following, leaving Lexa alone to her thoughts.

Two hundred years ago, the Greeks and the Romans fought each other in a great war. Casualties were devastating for both sides and the demigod population was nearly wiped out. Ever since then, the gods had kept the two separated. However, a few years ago, the gods suddenly decided that it was imperative that the two camps learned to get along with each other. Nobody knew what brought on this sudden change of heart.

There were whispers going about that the furies had predicted a great disaster would strike Olympus in the near future. Severely spooked by this prophetic future, the gods decided that their best odds at procuring a safe future was if their children, all of their children, worked together. Thus, a god appeared at each of the camps to deliver the message and since then, it's been a rough road to becoming allies.

Lexa felt a muscle in her cheek twitch. Regardless of whether or not this prophesied end of the world was real, and regardless of the real reason why the gods suddenly wanted them to be friendly, the fact was that they had to tolerate each other whether they liked it or not. And despite the fact that the war between the Greeks and Romans happened two hundred years ago, generations before any of them were even alive, the rift between the two camps was still very much a thing.

Still, Lexa was not about to disobey a god. So being the peacemaker she was, she invited three Greek campers into her camp as guests and invited them to accompany Lexa and her team on a quest in an effort to build camaraderie.

So many things had gone wrong on that quest Anya spent a day and a half venting about her frustrations as soon as they were back and the Greek were gone.

Lexa had asked Camp Ark to send their best. She knew they didn't have praetors like Camp Polis did or any other form of an official camp leader, but she still wanted someone with sway. Otherwise, this whole exchange would've been meaningless.

They'd sent Bellamy, Monty, and Murphy.

Bellamy and his team proved to be difficult to work with, stubborn, arrogant, quick to anger, and narrow minded. Lexa was surprised they made it through the quest without someone stabbing the other in the back (the two most likely being either Anya or Murphy).

The next two encounters between the two camps went down in a similar fashion.

Lexa could only hope this time was different.

* * *

_Three days later…_

The sharp knocking on her door broke her concentration.

"Enter."

The door creaked open slightly to reveal Gustus who bowed slightly in greeting. "Heda, the Graecus have arrived."

Lexa didn't bother looking up as she gathered the paperwork and shuffled them into a neat pile. "Tell them to come here then. Bellamy should be familiar with the camp by now."

Gustus shifted slightly by the entryway, a movement that Lexa caught in her peripheral. "Uh, it does not appear to be Bellamy and his crew this time," Gustus revealed.

Lexa looked up for the first time since Gustus entered, a slight crease in her eyebrows, the only sign that betrayed her surprise and confusion. "What do you mean it's not Bellamy? I thought we made it very clear that we only wanted their most competent demigods?" There was a slight edge to her tone and Gustus faltered slightly at it.

"We did," Gustus inclined his head dryly as if he were already exhausted of the Greeks' presence in their camp.

Lexa forced herself to smooth out her facade. She refused to be caught off guard already by the Greeks. She honestly should've expected this. The Greeks were always unpredictable.

"Very well. Escort them here. And tell Anya and Lincoln to get here."

"Yes Heda." Gustus bowed once more before leaving to adhere to her orders.

As soon as the door shut, Lexa sunk into her seat, trying to reel in her anger. Why would Camp Ark disrespect their request and send a sub-par team to them? No. She must not jump to conclusions. Her eyes narrowed on the closed wooden door. She would assess the competency of these new Greek demigods and if they prove to be useless, she would rain her wrath on the Greeks right after she was done with the Mountain, the gods will be damned.

* * *

Anya and Lincoln were the first to arrive.

"Heda," the two bowed as they entered.

"We heard the  _Graecus_ have arrived," Lincoln stated, cutting straight to the point.

Lexa nodded, her eyes lidded as she regarded her companions. "It appears they have sent someone other than Bellamy."

A raised eyebrow from Lincoln and a look of suspicion from Anya was all she got in response.

Anya was the first to speak of the two. "I hope they are at least more competent," she scowled slightly. "Though I somehow doubt it. High standards of excellence aren't exactly what the Greeks are known for, are they?" she commented, crossing her arms.

Lincoln however seemed to be more optimistic. "Maybe they will be just what we need to convince the rest of Romans that we can work together with the Greeks. Gods know how many people Bellamy and his friend Murphy managed to offend last time we all worked together."

"Again, doubt it," Anya scowled.

"Enough," Lexa chastised them lightly. "Regardless, we will try to treat them with respect."

Secretly, she was worried. Though she never did like Bellamy, he and his two friends did have a sense of competency to them. At least they had contributed somewhat to their last teamed mission. This new team, she knew nothing of them. And that worried Lexa. She didn't like not having completely control.

A knock on the door alerted the three people in the room. After giving her two friends one last reassuring glance, Lexa nodded and squared her shoulders. She unsheathed her imperial gold knife and began to fiddle with it idly.

"Come in," she commanded, making sure her voice projected just enough power and presence.

The door opened and Gustus walked in.

"Heda," he bowed. "The Greeks have arrived." He stepped aside.

Lexa felt her jaw tick and her eyes widen slightly as soon as she took in the Greeks despite her well trained self restraint. The first thing she noticed was that unlike the previous team which was all males, this one was all females. The girl in the middle with the blonde hair in particular stood out to her. Lexa swallowed as green eyes met clear blue eyes.

She knew then and there that these three Greeks were going to be a lot more troublesome than Bellamy and his team ever were.

Especially the blonde.


	3. Journey to the West

Clarke was in the middle of racing Raven and Octavia up the lava climbing wall when Bellamy came running over.

 

“Clarke!”

 

Hearing her name, she looked over her shoulder to see Bellamy waving at her to come down. Pushing off the wall, she jumped to the ground, wiping the dust and soot on her the front of her pants.  
  
“Clarkey! We’re counting that a surrender!” Octavia shouted from where she was trying to maneuver away from the lava dripping off the wall.

 

“You idiot, watch out for your left hand!” Raven screamed back in warning as she skillfully maneuvered out of the way.

 

Clarke ignored her two friends and walked over to where Bellamy was waiting.  “What’s up?”

 

“Kane wants to meet you in the Big House,” he stated.

 

Clarke squinted at his face. “Why?”

 

Bellamy shrugged, his eyes squinting against the bright sun. “I don’t know. I was just told to pass on the message.” He looked down at her grinning. “Maybe he finally found out about the time you set fire to the stables,” he teased.

 

“Shut up! I was drunk!” Clarke shoved him chuckling. “Blame your sister and Raven. It was all their fault.”

 

“Riiiight,” he drawled as he playfully leaned his weight on her whenever she tried to shove him.

 

Clarke huffed realizing that she couldn’t get him to budge. He was much too big for her.

 

“Whatever, I hope nothing bad has happened again. Gods know I need a quiet summer for once,” Clarke remarked as she started walking towards the Big House, leaving Bellamy behind.

 

“What, tired of being the chosen one already?” Bellamy taunted, laughing as Clarke didn’t reply and instead gave him the middle finger.

 

 

* * *

  
  


“Bellamy said you needed to see me?” Clarke asked as she walked into Kane’s office.

 

“Ah, yes.” Kane looked up from his desk and gestured to the seat in front of him. “Please, sit.”

 

Clarke walked up the chair and plopped down. She looked up, expecting him to tell him why she was here. Instead she was met with silence.  Not one for much patience, she raised her eyebrows at Kane. “So what’s up? Am I in trouble?”  


“Goodness no,” Kane laughed lightly, though to Clarke’s trained ear it sounded forced. Immediately, she was suspicious. Instead of explaining why he summoned Clarke, Kane grabbed a scroll of his desk and handed it over.

 

Taking the scroll, Clarke eyed Kane suspiciously, silently asking him what it was. He merely nodded towards the scroll.

 

“Go on,” he encouraged.

 

Her curiosity building, Clarke wasted no time in unfurling the scroll and reading it. The more she read the contents of the scroll, the deeper the furrow in her eyebrows got.

 

Finally, she was done reading. She looked back up at Kane.

 

“The Romans are asking us for help,” she stated, the slightest hint of confusion lacing her voice.

 

Kane nodded.

 

“So we’re sending a team over,” Clarke guessed.  “We have to since the gods wanted us to get along.”

 

Kane nodded again.

 

“But…” she hesitated. “You called me over, not Bellamy.”

 

Kane nodded once more.

 

“Even though he and his team usually handle any team ups with the Romans,” Clarke stated.

 

“Right again, Ms. Griffin,” said Kane. He watched for any signs of reaction from her like a careful hawk.

 

Clarke felt the realization wash over her. She sank into her chair, suddenly feeling heavier than moments ago.  
  
“You’re sending me and my team.”

 

“If you accept the quest,” Kane stated quietly, folding his hands together as he waited patiently for her to gather her thoughts.

 

A thousand thoughts rushed through Clarke’s mind.

 

“Why?”

 

At Kane’s raised eyebrow, she continued. “I mean, why not just send Bellamy like you always do? They’re more familiar with the Romans anyways. They’ve worked together three times before. Wouldn’t they like someone they’re familiar with? Meanwhile, me, Raven, and Octavia have never even seen a Roman demigod. We weren’t here when they visited the Camp last year. We were away on a quest.”

 

“Well, they asked for the best we have to offer,” Kane started off slowly, his eyes just darting briefly to the side before the resettled on Clarke. “And that’s you, isn’t it?”

 

Clarke just stared at him.

 

“You’re finally done with dealing with Kronos and the other Titans, so it’s about time for you to get acquainted with our friends in the West, no?” Kane continued. “Besides, they really emphasized the importance of the quest this time.” He paused as if debating whether or not he should continue before sighing.

 

“If this were any other quest, I would’ve sent Bellamy,” he admitted and though he tried to maintain an easy countenance Clarke could tell he was tense. “But this is the Mountain we’re dealing with.” His eyes all of a sudden turned grave.

 

“We  don’t know much about the Mountain as it is hidden deep inside Roman territory but I have heard stories about the Mountain, none of them pleasant,” Kane stated, his voice taking on a a darker timbre. “If we are to have a chance at defeating it, we can only send the best, and that’s you.”

 

Clarke for some reason felt like there was a lot more going on than she understood. The way Kane was staring at her reminded her of the first time Kane had told her about the last Great Prophecy, the one that they thought foretold her early death.

 

“This is not any normal quest,” Kane continued. “This is as dangerous as anything you have faced before,” he stated and Clarke felt a shiver go down her spine. Facing Kronos had already been more than difficult to say the least.

 

“Do you understand?” Kane asked.

 

Clarke nodded. She swallowed. The air felt thicker for some reason.

 

“Good,” Kane nodded in grim satisfaction. “You leave tomorrow at dawn. It will take around seven hours to get there. You will arrive at Camp Polis tomorrow evening. Tell Raven and Octavia to gather their belongings.”

 

Clarke nodded, still at a loss for words. Her mind was racing at a hundred thoughts per minute.  

 

“Any questions?” Kane asked, his eyebrows furrowed. He felt terrible. Here he was sending her away on a difficult quest. Once again, this demigod in front of him would face uncomparable danger. He’d only hope that just like last time, she’ll come out unscathed.

 

Clarke sighed. “Man, Bellamy is not going to like that we took his spot as the ambassador to the Roman demigods, is he?” she half joked in an attempt to lighten the situation.  


Kane could only smile wryly at her joke.

  


* * *

  


“So what is the plan exactly? What do they need our help with?” Octavia asked as they boarded the Argo II. Argo II was a ship built by none other than their very own mechanic genius, Raven. The blueprints for the ship was found in bunker 9, which Clarke accidentally stumbled upon during a game of capture the flag two summers ago.

 

Clarke sat down at the head of the table in their meeting room, gesturing for Raven and Octavia to do the same.

 

“Have you guys ever heard of the Mountain?” she asked them.

 

“Bellamy has mentioned once, I think,” Octavia stated, frowning as she tried to recall her memory. “The only thing he said was that the Romans hate the Mountain. But I have no idea what that means. Why would they hate a mountain? Is it cursed? Do they just have bad luck with rocks?”

 

Clarke shook her head. “I don’t think they’re not referring to the geological structure when they say The Mountain. It’s more than that according to the information that Kane has, but even that’s very little. All we know is that Romans have asked us for help in ‘defeating the Mountain.’”

 

“Can’t we just blast it apart?” Raven grumbled, still not fully awake. “That’ll defeat the mountain. I can make explosives.”

 

“I can only hope it would be that easy,” Clarke frowned. “But there’s something about the way the Romans asked for help and the way Kane was acting when he gave the quest that makes me a little uneasy. Either way, keep your eyes open and your ears peeled. Though we’re supposedly allies, we may still be heading into hostile territory. We don’t know what we’re dealing with.”

 

“Yessir,” Raven sleepily saluted.

 

“I’m actually a little excited to meet the Romans,” Octavia grinned almost wickedly. “We’ll have to show them just what Greeks are made of.” 


	4. An Unexpected Roman Bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greeks arrive at Camp Jupiter! They don't receive the warmest welcome, but as far as first impressions go Clarke figured they could've done worse. 
> 
> aka Clarke makes an entrance. 
> 
> Clexa don't meet quite yet (that's next chapter).

Clarke expected hostility. She knew that the Romans and the Greeks were not on the best terms despite the efforts from both sides and from above. She’d expected some insults, some snarky comments, and maybe even some unsubtle shoulder bumping. You know, juvenile stuff. 

 

What she did not expect was Little Tiber attacking them as soon as their airship crossed its banks. 

 

“What is going on Raven?” Clarke cried out as their ship lurched sideways. 

 

“I don’t know! The river’s going crazy!” Raven screamed back in reply. “It’s dragging us down!”

 

“Bellamy that ass!” Octavia yelled as she desperately clung onto a protruding in the wall to stay standing up. “He didn’t mention anything about a killer river!”

 

“Raven, can’t you do anything?” Clarke asked desperately as the ship’s emergency alarms began blaring overhead. 

 

“All emergency thrusters are down!” Raven shouted back. “Engine’s failing! We’re about to hit the surface! Brace for landing!” 

 

Clarke shut her eyes and held on for her life. When the Argo II finally hit Little Tiber, Clarke felt her knees wobble and nearly fell on her face from the tremors. When she reopened her eyes again, she glanced out the windows and confirmed that they were indeed underwater now. 

 

 _“Di immortales!”_ Octavia cursed. Their quest hadn’t even started yet and already things were going wrong. Typical. 

 

The three girls made eye contact with each other one last time as the cold raging waters of the Little Tiber flooded itself inside the ship. 

 

As the water rushed up to their waist, Clarke closed her eyes, and focused on finding that familiar tugging sensation in her gut. 

 

Then she pulled. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Cold. 

 

That was the first thing Clarke felt. Then, suddenly, she was thrown into a coughing fit. She doubled over and grasped at her throat which burned like she’d tried to drink acid. Her body felt raw and vulnerable, as if someone had taken sandpaper and tried to smooth her over. 

 

“Careful,” a gentle voice sounded off to her left. “You’re okay now. Though that was a nasty swim, wasn’t it?”

 

Clarke gasped, her lungs able to breathe again now that she’d coughed up all the water. Her eyes shot open and she quickly took in her surroundings. 

 

Where was she? Where were Raven and Octavia? What happened to them? The last thing remembered was Little Tiber rushing into their airship. 

 

Hearing more coughing, Clarke turned her head towards its direction and was relieved to see both Octavia and Raven looking relatively okay. 

 

“Your friends are fine.”

 

Clarke whirled her head around to see a girl around her age with long brown bushy hair, kind eyes, tan skin, and an athletic build. She did not miss the armor the girl donned, nor the four foot long sword still in its sheath attached to the girl’s hip. 

 

Her first encounter with a Roman demigod. 

 

“What happened?” Clarke coughed once more. 

 

“Good question,” the girl hummed to herself as her eyes flashed critically. “I saw your airship approaching from my post atop the city wall. I’m not really sure what happened next but it looked like the Little Tiber was dragging your ship down. It doesn’t normally do that so it was pretty obvious something was wrong. When your ship went underwater, I was prepared to jump in and save you all but it turned out that you guys didn’t need my help.”

 

Clarke struggled to her feet, swaying slightly before she managed to steady herself. Now that she was standing, she could see that the girl was taller than her. “What do you mean?” she asked, squinting up. 

 

The girl grinned, amusement twinkling in her eyes, and nodded pointedly to her left. Clarke let her gaze drift in that direction and saw a small battalion of skeleton warriors all standing and staring at her as if waiting for her orders. Behind them, a group of armed Roman demigods stared apprehensively at the skeletons, their hands never straying too far from their weapons as if waiting for the undead army to strike at any time. 

 

“They carried your ship out of the river. It was downright terrifying actually,” the girl laughed. “Can you imagine? A horde of skeletons clawing their way out of the river carrying what looked like a warship on their backs? We thought another war was starting. We waited for them to attack, but it was clear they had no such intent. I’ve been at this camp for six years now and I can’t say I’ve ever seen anything quite like it. I’m afraid you might’ve scarred some of the younger campers though.”

 

Clarke smiled apologetically at the girl “And do you know what happened to the ship?”

 

Before the girl could answer however, Clarke heard Raven’s cry of anguish. 

 

“NOOOOOOOO! My ship!” 

 

Clarke turned around and finally spotted the Argo II, or at least what was left of it, deposited near the river bank. Raven was currently crouched by the wreckage, looking completely heartbroken at the destruction of her masterpiece. 

 

“Not my baby!” the girl cried.  

 

Octavia was next to her, trying to get the girl to stand up and stop making a fool of herself. 

 

“Never mind, I guess,” Clarke laughed lightly at her friends’ antics before turning to the skeletons. They all seemed to stand a little straighter at her attention. 

 

“I’m fine guys. Y’all can go now,” Clarke told them. The fifty or so skeleton warriors saluted in unison before melting into the ground, leaving no trace of their presence. 

 

The Romans all took a step back in disgust and fear at the sight. 

 

When Clarke turned back, the girl was looking at her with appraisal. 

 

“Interesting,” the girl remarked. Her eyes twinkled with interest. “I’m Luna by the way. Daughter of Neptune and Centurion of the Second Cohort.”

 

Clarke shook the girl’s hand. She only understood about half of the words Luna just spouted to her.  “Clarke Griffin.”

 

“Daughter of Pluto, I’m guessing,” Luna smiled knowingly. 

 

“Hades,” Clarke corrected with a gentle smile. “My friends and I are Greek.”

 

Recognition lit up in Luna’s face. The humor and lightheartedness of their interaction seemed to vanish as something more serious replaced it. “Ah, so you’re here on Heda’s request.”

 

Clarke frowned a little at the sudden change in Luna’s demeanor. “Yeah, I guess you can say that.”

 

Luna nodded. She turned around, her eyes scanning the Roman crowd for someone. “There’s Gustus.” She turned back around to face Clarke. “He’ll take you to Lexa. Come. She doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

 

“Wait,” Clarke called out as Luna turned to leave. When Luna stopped and turned back around, Clarke gestured at the knife strapped to the girl’s thigh.

 

“Can I borrow your knife really quickly?” she asked. 

 

Luna raised an eyebrow, pausing at the request. She eyed Clarke for a moment and must’ve deemed Clarke trustworthy enough because next thing Clarke knew, Luna had unsheathed the knife with a smooth, clearly practiced motion and was holding the handle towards her. 

 

Clarke took it gratefully. “Thanks.” She noticed Luna’s hand on her sword but ignored it. 

 

Looking down at her own arm, Clarke took a deep breath. She had a hypothesis to verify. Her skin had been feeling raw and soft ever since she stepped out of the river. Before she could question herself, she brought the knife across the inside of her forearm, leaving a thin, shallow red line. 

 

Clarke released her breath. 

 

She watched as the red liquid ran down her arm. 

 

She was _bleeding._

 

“Um.”

 

Clarke looked up. Luna was staring at her with half worried, half questioning eyes. 

 

“Do I want to know why you did that?” Luna questioned warily. . 

 

Clarke shook her head, handing the knife back to its owner. “Just had to verify something.” She grinned dryly at the daughter of Neptune. “A reminder of my vulnerability and mortality.” 

 

The way Clarke said it made Luna feel as though there was a much deeper meaning, one that left her confused, and wanting to know more. “You are a weird one, daughter of Hades,” Luna commented, scrutinizing Clarke with a searching look before turning and leaving. 

 

 

Later as they followed Gustus to meet with the Roman leader, Clarke ignored the concerned looks Raven and Octavia were shooting her. 


	5. First Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally meet! Lexa tries to read her new allies. Are they competent enough though?

Lexa felt her eyebrows twitch against her will at the sight of the Greeks entering the room and quickly schooled her features, careful not to betray her thoughts. She didn’t have to look at Anya and Lincoln to know that they were equally as baffled as she was. After all, it wasn’t often that people came into meetings with the praetor completely soaking _wet._

 

“We asked the Greeks to send their best, not three drowned _kittens_ .” Anya’s sharp tongue was quick as always. “Did your _plebeian_ brains finally realize the benefits of bathing?” 

 

“Anya,” Lexa warned under breath. She’d hoped to conduct this meeting as civilly as possible, but apparently all possibility of that happening was already out of the window. 

 

“Yeah, well you owe me a ship! Your stupid river completely wrecked it! Do you know how long it took me to build the Argo II?” the Greek girl on the left protested, sounding extremely upset. She looked like she was crying though Lexa couldn’t tell for sure with the water dripping down her face.  

 

Lexa shot Anya a sharp glance out of the corner of her end, one that told exactly what she would do to her if she continued this silly shouting match. Anya scowled at the look but kept her mouth shut. Lexa turned her attention back to the soaking wet Greeks. 

 

“Forgive my friend. She has a sharp tongue and a sharper bite to match, but she means no harm most of the time,” said Lexa sternly. “I’m Lexa, daughter of Jupiter and praetor of the twelfth legion. This is Anya,” Lexa gestured to her right where Anya stood with her arms crossed. “Daughter of Bellona, Roman goddess of war, and Centurion of the First Cohort.” She then gestured to her left. “And this Lincoln, son of Mercury, and legionnaire for the First Cohort. You will be mostly working with us for the duration of this quest.”

 

After she was done introducing her team, the blonde in the middle stood forward. “I’m Clarke, daughter of Hades. This is Octavia-” she pointed to the girl on her right. “Daughter of Aphrodite. And the crybaby over here-” Clarke was nudged by the girl on her left. “Is Raven. She’s a daughter of Hephaestus.”

 

Blue eyes met green. 

 

“We look forward to working with you,” said Clarke softly. 

 

Lexa took a second to scrutinize the Greeks. From what she could tell, Clarke was clearly the leader. The way Clarke scanned the room as soon as she entered, mapping out the location of all the exits, windows, and potentially useful objects, as well as the way she stood, with her back straight, shoulders forced down, confident yet burdened, told Lexa everything she needed to know. Then there were those blue eyes. Lexa could tell from their heavy stare and their intensity that Clarke was always thinking, always analyzing and that she’d seen some things in her time as a demigod. 

 

Octavia, Lexa could tell was a warrior through and through. If the giant longsword strapped to her side was not a big enough telltale, then the pale scars on her arms and legs combined with muscular build were. 

 

Raven on the other hand was obviously not a fighter. With only a small knife strapped to her side, Raven was clearly the engineer of the group. The girl’s outburst earlier made it quite obvious what strengths she lent to the team. 

 

But were they competent? Now that was the big question, wasn’t it?

 

Lexa hadn’t heard anything about the ship or how the Greeks arrived, but she assumed that if Raven was able to build a ship sturdy enough to carry them from New York to California, then her skill was nothing to be laughed at. She would be a good asset to have given that no one on her team was very skilled with machines. 

 

As for Octavia, it was hard to judge how good of a fighter the girl was without seeing her in action first. However, if Lexa were to wager a guess, she’d bet that the Greek demigod wouldn’t be able to best Anya even once out of ten spars. Bellamy never did after all. Nor did any of his teammates. 

 

And lastly, there was Clarke. 

 

Lexa suspected Clarke was no pushover with her being the daughter of the Lord of the Underworld. The children of the Big Three were as rare as they were powerful. Lexa would know as one of only two Big Three children here at Camp Jupiter. Yet, even if Clarke were a daughter of a minor god, Lexa had a feeling the blonde would’ve been anything but a pushover. 

 

“Welcome to Camp Jupiter,” Lexa nodded at the Greeks. “It seems your journey here was rather...eventful.” 

 

Raven snorted. “That’s one way to put it.”

 

Lexa narrowed her eyes at the immature display of attitude in a formal, diplomatic meeting. Were these Greeks going to be as difficult to deal with as Bellamy and his team were?

 

“I bet it’s Clarke’s fault,” the one named Octavia spoke up. “It’s always Clarke’s fault.”

 

Clarke shot an annoyed glance at Octavia before turning her attention to Lexa to explain what had happened. “We were just about to cross your camp borders on our ship when the waters of the Little Tiber River suddenly tried to drag us down from midair and drown us.”

 

“I think,” Clarke’s voice died down as she shifted her gaze down to the corner of Lexa’s desk. “I think it was angry.”

 

Lexa raised a questioning eyebrow as Lincoln asked, “What do you mean it was angry?”

 

Clarke’s raised her gaze until she was looking Lexa straight in the eyes. “Before I came here, I, uh, carried a curse,” she admitted. 

 

Lexa tried not to frown at that. Cursed demigods were not good omens. One would’ve had to do something extremely unforgiveable to the gods to be cursed. 

 

“What curse?” asked Lexa apprehensively. 

 

“I beared the Curse of Achilles,” Clarke revealed. “It is a Greek curse, one that made me invincible except for a small part of my body, my weak spot,” Clarke explained.

 

“You were invincible,” Anya repeated incredulously. She snorted. “Impossible.”

 

“I was,” Clarke insisted. “As I said, it’s a Greek curse so the Romans do not know about it, nor can they obtain it. I bathed in the River Styx, just as Achilles had. I had to bear the curse in order to defeat Kronos in the Titan War ”

 

“You fought in the war?” Lexa’s eyes flashed with curiosity as she caught on to that specific tidbit of information. Perhaps this team of Greeks would prove to be rather competent after all. 

 

“We all did,” Clarke nodded towards her friends. 

 

“Yeah, but she fought Kronos by herself and defeated him,” Octavia revealed. 

 

“Finn defeated Kronos. Not me,” Clarke insisted stubbornly. The hard edge to her voice tipped Lexa off. It was clearly a sore subject for the blonde.

 

“You were still the mastermind who orchestrated the whole thing,” Raven pointed out. 

 

Clarke stayed silent, staring almost definitely at Lexa, who decided  a change of topics was perhaps for the better. 

 

“So you’re no longer invincible?” Lexa asked, slightly disappointed. It definitely would’ve been helpful if Clarke were still indestructible. Besides, Lexa couldn’t deny that she was curious as to what invincibility entailed. 

 

Instead of responding verbally, Clarke moved her arm for everyone to see. 

 

Lexa spotted a small red line, thin but sure, across the middle of Clarke’s forearm. A cut. 

 

“The river washed my curse away. Because it was Greek,” said Clarke. “It would not allow me to enter the camp otherwise.”

 

“So you’re saying we could’ve just thrown you overboard and the Argo II would’ve been fine?” Raven asked exasperated. 

 

“See, it’s always Clarke’s fault.” Octavia chimed in. 

 

Lexa observed the Greeks bicker with mild amusement. She couldn’t get a full grasp on them. They had potential, that was for sure, but Lexa wanted to be more sure of their abilities before proceeding with the main quest at hand. 

 

“Tomorrow,” she said, her voice ringing out with authority, effectively stopping the Greeks’ dispute. “We are hosting our weekly war game. This week, the game is Siege. Perhaps you three would find yourselves inclined to participate?” It was not so much a question as a statement. “The Siege will serve as a good way to gauge each other’s abilities. A glimpse into who we’re working with,” Lexa explained. Her eyes met Clarke’s challengingly. 

 

For some reason she hoped that Clarke and her team would be able to step up to the challenge. 

 

“I’m guessing we’ll be on different teams?” Clarke asked, a small smirk forming on her lips.

 

“Naturally,” Lexa answered, her eyes flashing dangerously. “Consider this a test. If you pass, this quest will proceed smoothly. If not...” She trailed off, but the message was clear. If not, the Greeks would go home. 

 

Clarke felt herself smirk at the subtle threat. She always did like a good challenge.

 

“I hope the food is good here,” Clarke grinned up at Lexa. “We’re planning on staying for a while, praetor.”

 

Lexa met Clarke’s unwaveringly. “Naturally. The Roman way is the best way after all. Food included.”  
  
“I guess we’ll see tomorrow, won’t we?” said Clarke cheekily. “If that is all, praetor, we would like to be shown to our living quarters. It’s been a rather long day and we would love to get into some dry clothes soon,” said Clarke as she picked at her wet clothes to make her point. 

 

Lexa nodded. “Gustus will show you the way. Dinner is at six.”

 

And as if on cue, the door opened revealing Gustus who quickly ushered the Greeks out. Left alone, Lexa didn’t move from her spot and waited. 

 

“They’re hopeless,” said Anya before the door even closed halfway, stepping forward to stand in front of Lexa. 

 

“Really?” Lincoln asked. “I think they’re fine. At least they seemed better behaved than Bellamy and his crew.”

 

“They couldn’t even make it past camp borders without almost drowning,” stated Anya dryly. 

 

“They fought in the Titan War. Clarke even fought Kronos by herself,” Lincoln pointed out. “That has to account for something.” He turned to look at Lexa. “I think they will be good for us.”

 

Lexa regarded her friends coolly. “I guess we’ll see tomorrow, huh?” she said cryptically. 

 

Anya snorted. “I look forward to bashing their pathetic little skulls.”

  
  
  


 

 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. The Siege

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Greeks participate in the Siege. Even though it's very clearly tipped against their favor, Clarke always has a plan, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long update ahead to make up for all the short chapters.

The following morning, Clarke walked into the mess hall alone. She felt everyone’s eyes turn to her as soon as she entered. Most of the stares, she ignored. However, it was a bit harder to shake off the feeling of the Roman praetor watching her very closely like a hawk with those green eyes. 

 

Lexa sat at a table with Anya, Lincoln, Luna and a couple of others Clarke didn’t recognize. They looked important though, if the decorated medals on their purple togas were anything to go by. 

 

Clarke made a point to meet Lexa’s stare from across the mess hall and nod in greeting. She saw Lexa return the smallest of nods before turning her attention to the selection of breakfast spreads in front of her. 

 

She picked out a few cheeses, honey drizzled figs, grapes, and some dried meat to put on her plate. She scraped most of it off into the sacrificial fire, sending a quick prayer to Hades, before finding an open spot at one of the tables, ignoring the hisses of _‘Graecus’_ and _‘death’_ around her. She had a fig halfway to her mouth when a familiar figure plopped down in front of her. 

 

“Hello Clarke,” Luna grinned, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

 

Instantly, Clarke found herself relaxing just the slightest despite being surrounded by potential enemies. There was just something about Luna that made her feel very welcoming. 

 

“Hello Luna,” Clarke responded back in a similar fashion, grinning as she popped a fig carelessly into her mouth. She glanced briefly at the previous table Luna occupied and was unsurprised to see every occupant of that table watching their interaction carefully. Clarke immediately averted her gaze and focused on the girl in front of her. 

 

“I see you’re dining alone this morning,” Luna noted. 

 

Clarke looked to her empty sides, more for the dramatic than anything else. “It seems that I am. Before you graced me with your lovely presence that is,” Clarke said slightly flirtatiously, surprising herself with her own audacity. 

 

Luna laughed, throwing her head back which drew a smile from Clarke. “Anytime, Clarke. If you ever crave my presence, all you have to do is ask,” Luna beamed. “Where are your friends,” she asked curiously. 

 

“Octavia is still sleeping. She probably won’t be up until midday at least,” answered Clarke. “And Raven was gone before I even woke up. She’s probably working in the forge to repair the ship we wrecked.”

 

“Shame,” Luna commented. “It was a lovely ship. I've never seen one like it before.” She regarded Clarke curiously. “She’s really going to rebuild an entire ship?”

 

“Raven can build almost anything out of nothing,” said Clarke, her faith in her friend’s ability absolute. After all, Raven wasn't appointed Olympus's new architect for nothing. Her skills spoke for themselves. 

 

“I’ll take your word for it,” Luna winked as she stole a fig off of Clarke’s plate with no restraint and popped it into her mouth. Clarke chuckled at the audacity of the girl. 

 

“So, did you have a reason for sitting here or did your praetor send you here to reconnaissance the enemy before the game tonight?” Clarke asked, her easy going smile taking any bite out of her statement. 

 

Luna gasped, her hand over her chest. “Can’t I just want to talk to a pretty girl?” she joked, sending Clarke a wide smile. “And no, Lexa did not send me to _spy_ on you. If she did, I would like to think myself a bit more discreet than this.”

 

Clarke laughed. “Fair.” She had a feeling Luna would make a decent spy if she tried to be one. Clarke's gaze flew back to the distrustful stares from the other Roman legionnaires that were now watching her converse with Luna. A question popped into her mind. 

 

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Clarke asked. 

 

“Sure, what’s up?” Luna asked, popping another one of Clarke’s figs into her mouth. Clarke gave up and just pushed the plate closer to the other girl for which she received a grateful smile. 

 

Clarke leaned in, making Luna mirror her action. 

 

“I don’t mean to sound crazy but,” Clarke let her eyes wander back to the stares. “Why is everyone looking at me like that?” 

 

Luna opened her mouth to answer, but Clarke wasn’t done. “And I know it’s not _just_ because I’m Greek,” said Clarke frowning slightly as she thought back to how everyone reacted around her, Raven, and Octavia, and how the looks she received individually were just _different._

 

Luna wore a small smile when Clarke looked back at her. 

 

“Maybe it’s because they’d never seen such a pretty girl before,” suggested Luna with an easy going shrug. 

 

Clarke rolled her eyes exasperated, nearly throwing her hands in the air. Luna was really something. “That’s definitely not what it is.” She stared at Luna expectantly, waiting for the girl to spill the truth. "There's more to it." 

 

The smile on Luna’s face dropped slightly and her expression became less open as Clarke continued her interrogation . 

 

“What is it?” Clarke pushed. “You definitely know something.” The way Luna could no longer look her steadily in the eyes was a dead giveaway. The girl was definitely hiding something. 

 

“Well,” Luna licked her lips, anxiously and Clarke had a feeling she wasn’t going to like the answer. 

 

“Don’t take this the wrong way now,” said Luna, eyes darting between Clarke and just over Clarke’s shoulder. “But children of Pluto, they’re sort of bad luck. Children of Hades...well they are even worse since they're Greek. And you know how the Romans fear death, but-”

 

Clarke hummed. "Ah, so that's what it was. Not going to lie, I was expecting much worse." She chuckled to herself. 

 

“What’s so funny?” Luna asked cautiously. 

 

“Sorry,” Clarke grinned, half laughing. “It’s just not my first time hearing that is all. When I first found out I was a demigod, everyone avoided me when they found out who my father was. Athena even once voted to have me killed. Only Octavia and Raven weren't scared of me. Well there were times...but...” Clarke trailed off with a shrug. "Doesn't really bother me anymore."

 

“Oh.” Luna didn’t know how to respond. She settled on a look that seemed half sympathetic and half pitying. 

 

“And trust me, if anyone should believe _I’m_ bad luck, it’s _me_ ,” said Clarke lightheartedly as she popped a grape into her mouth. “That would explain everything that’s happened to me since I was eleven," she said waving her hand in the air in a vague gesture. "I wouldn’t exactly call myself lucky, you know. I faced the Minotaur before I even found out I was a demigod and had to kill it with my barehands. I got accused for stealing Zeus's Master thunderbolt like two weeks after when really it was Ares, that asshole. And then I was the child of a Great Prophecy that kind of foretold my death and everyone knew except for me for years. So yeah, tons of bad luck, but I'm used to it.”

 

“I see,” Luna had not expected such a nonchalant response but it seemed like she’d underestimated Clarke Griffin. “Well, now that I’ve answered your question, perhaps you could answer mine?”

 

“So I was right,” Clarke’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “You _are_ trying to gather intel on me and my friends. And you thought you were being sneaky.” She wagged a finger a Luna who laughed and swatted it away. 

 

“What’s your question?” Clarke asked, popping another grape into her mouth. 

 

“Well, I’ve noticed that both your friends carry a weapon around. Octavia has her bronze sword and Raven has her knife. But you don’t seem to carry any weapons on you,” said Luna, very visibly scanning Clarke up and down. 

 

“Did you just check me out?” Clarke asked with a grin. "Like what you see?" It was Luna’s turn to roll her eyes in exasperation. 

 

“Are you going to answer my question or not?” 

 

Clarke pulled up her wrists to show Luna in lieu of a direct answer. “I am carrying weapons,” said Clarke with a shrug. “You just can’t see them.”

 

Luna examined Clarke’s forearms. There was nothing special about them besides the two impossibly black bracelets which hung loosely, one on each wrist. 

 

“Your weapons...are your bracelets?” Luna questioned, leaning in closer to get a better view. Still nothing. They seemed like completely ordinary bracelets to her. Though the material did seem a bit unusual in its blackness. Luna had never seen a stone quite so black. Not even obsidian was that black. 

 

“Yup,” Clarke nodded, basking in the look of utter confusion on Luna’s face. 

 

“I’m not sure I quite understand,” Luna drawled, eyeing the bracelets. She wondered what was so special about them. 

 

“I would show you, but we are at breakfast,” said Clarke with a quick sweep of their surroundings to prove her point. People were still staring at her. “Hardly seems appropriate.”

 

Luna waved her concerns off. “There are no formal rules. You’ll be fine. Show me. I’m practically dying of curiosity.”

 

“Okay,” Clarke relented, raising an eyebrow. “But if I get in trouble for drawing a weapon in the middle of breakfast, it’s on you.”

 

“Legionnaire’s honor,” Luna promised with a grin. 

 

Just as Clarke was about to tap her bracelets, she was interrupted. 

 

“Perhaps Clarke is correct. Breakfast is decidedly not the best time to draw a weapon,” Lexa’s sharp voice cut through. Luna and Clarke both turned to the newcomer. Clarke immediately dropped her arms to her sides. She had not felt Lexa approach them at all, which was highly unlike her. Clarke was usually very aware of her surroundings. (It helped that she could sense everyone's life energy). 

 

“Aw Lexie, don’t tell me you’re not curious,” Luna cooed, completely unaffected by the hard glare Lexa was sending her way. 

 

“Do not call me that,” Lexa tutted at Luna in annoyance before addressing both of them. “There will be plenty of time tonight during the Siege to show off your weapons. I would prefer not to have a brawl occur in the middle of the mess hall because you drew a weapon during breakfast. Would you, Clarke?” Lexa asked, a hint of steel to her voice. 

 

Clarke knew better than to defy Lexa. The girl walked around with an aura of power that practically hung on to her like a second skin. With those green eyes staring straight at her, Clarke could only shake her head, knowing that it wasn't even a real question to begin with. 

 

“Good. I will see you both later tonight then.” With a resolute nod, Lexa exited the mess hall. Clarke stared at her retreating back the entire time, a little entranced with how Lexa's toga swished behind her as she walked. Once Lexa was gone, Clarke turned back to Luna who was watching her with a knowing smile while sipping her goblet. What Luna knew, Clarke had no idea.

 

“I don’t think your praetor likes me very much,” Clarke commented, picking at her grapes. Her appetite was suddenly gone.  

 

Luna hummed into her goblet. “I wouldn’t say that.”

 

* * *

  
  
  


Later that day, Lexa was examining maps of the Mountain and its surrounding land for the nth time when Anya strode into her office without knocking, already adorned in full battle armor in preparation for tonight’s event. The older girl came to a stop in front of Lexa’s desk and waited for Lexa to acknowledge her presence. 

 

Lexa glanced up briefly at her most trusted advisor and mentor before her gaze fell back onto the maps in front of her. “Report.” 

 

“The preparations for tonight are mostly done,” said Anya in a monotone. “The wall will be finished an hour before dinner.”

 

Lexa hummed. “And the Centurions?” she asked. “Have they all been informed of the plans for tonight?”

 

Camp Polis consisted of twelve cohorts, each consisting of ten to twenty demigods and lead by a Centurion. Right under the praetor, the Centurions were next in line in the Roman hierarchical leadership system. The Centurions were responsible for maintaining their individual cohorts while also supporting the praetor in their commands. 

 

Anya was the current Centurion of the First Cohort, the same Cohort Lexa was from and previously Centurion of. 

 

Anya nodded. “We have informed them of the teams. Several Centurions expressed their thoughts on the blatant unfairness that went into creating the teams but no one really argued it when they learned of the main purpose for tonight. They were all eager to see the Greeks suffer.” Anya didn’t bother hiding her enthusiastic tone that gave away her eagerness to see the same. 

 

Lexa nodded. She had purposely made the teams as unfair as possible to push the Greeks to their limits. Lexa did not expect them to win today during the Siege. That wasn't the point. Victory for the Greeks was a forgone conclusion. Instead, Lexa wanted to see how they would react when backed into a corner. 

 

_'A truly dangerous enemy is one who can think on their feet even when all the odds are against their favor.'_

 

At Camp Polis, the lower numbered Cohorts were known to be stronger and more skilled. The First and Second Cohorts combined could probably take on all of the other Cohorts by themselves. And though Cohort Twelve was big in size, they were rowdy and lacked the discipline needed for victory. Thus, when creating the teams, Lexa had purposely placed Cohorts One through Seven on one side, leaving the other side with only Cohorts Eight through Twelve. The odds were almost ridiculously in favor of the first team. Victory was practically guaranteed for them. 

 

Lexa knew Clarke would figure that out too once the blonde was informed. She couldn’t wait to see what Clarke would cook up just to even the odds. 

 

Lexa sighed. Was she putting too much hope on the Greeks? Was she asking for too much? She doubted even Anya or Luna would be able to do anything if they were put into the same situation she’d given the Greeks. 

 

“And Lincoln?” asked Lexa. “Has he informed the Greeks on the rules?”

 

“I believe he is with them now,” replied Anya. “May I go? I need to sharpen my sword for tonight.” Anya grinned wickedly, her lips tight. "I feel I will be using it a lot tonight."

 

Lexa fought back the urge to scoff at her old friend. She dismissed her with a simple wave of her hand. Left alone once more, Lexa went back to pondering over the maps, except this time she couldn’t stop her thoughts from wandering to the blonde Greek every once in a while. 

 

Lexa didn’t understand why, but she desperately needed Clarke to prove herself tonight. 

 

* * *

  
  


“The objective of the Siege is simple,” said Lincoln. He was currently walking the Greeks through the basics of tonight’s game while showing them the battlegrounds in the Field of Mars. 

 

“There are two sides, the attacking and defending teams.” He pointed to the half-built fort. “By tonight, that fort will be finished. And somewhere inside will be three different banners. The goal of the attacking team is to get past that wall,” he pointed to an incomplete wall that was decidedly not there yesterday. “Get inside the fortress, find the banners, and capture them without getting slaughtered. They will be carrying their own banner, of which there is only one. The defending team wins by protecting their banners and capturing the attacking teams’ banner.”

 

“That sounds simple. It’s basically just like capture the flag,” Octavia observed. “We’re pretty good at capture the flag,” she declared with a confident grin. 

 

Lincoln made a noise of slight disagreement. “Maybe, but it’s not as simple as mere capture the flag.”

 

Clarke frowned up at the tall man. “What do you mean?”

 

“Well, there are scorpions, catapults, and water cannons defending the fortress. Also the attacking team gets Hannibal, the war elephant.”

 

“War elephant,” Raven repeated to herself indubiously. “The Romans have a war elephant. Why don’t we have a war elephant?” she asked Clarke and Octavia. 

 

“Do people ever get badly hurt?” asked a semi-concerned Clarke. She hated to think of what would happen if someone were to get stung by a giant scorpion. 

 

Lincoln shrugged. “Sometimes, but our healers usually do a good job of healing you up. They can do a lot with ambrosia and nectar.”

 

“Doubt they’ll have anything on Clarke though,” Raven nudged Clarke knowingly. "If anything happens to me, you're the only one I'll allow to operate on me. Don't let those Romans near me."

 

"Same here," Octavia chimed in. 

 

Lincoln looked up in surprise at the blonde. “You’re versed in the arts of healing?”

 

Clarke shrugged. “When you’re friends with these two, you learn.” Her comment earned her a light push on the shoulder from Octavia. 

 

"The girl's got magic healing hands," Octavia claimed with a serious expression on my face.

 

"I do not," Clarke said, huffing slightly as she looked at Lincoln. "They exaggerate. But yes, I'm a healer back at Camp Ark."

 

Lincoln could tell Clarke was downplaying her abilities, but he decided it wasn’t his place to pry. 

 

“The teams are split by the Cohorts though each Cohort is really just fighting for themselves,” Lincoln continued explaining. “The Cohort that captures the banner wins glory.”

 

“What’s a Cohort?” Octavia asked curiously. Lincoln glanced at the girl before averting his gaze to the ground. Clarke could’ve sworn there was a hint of a blush on his cheeks if she looked closely enough. 

 

“Every demigod here at Camp Polis, once they pass their probation period and become a full fledged member of the Legion, is placed into a Cohort based on their skills, recommendations, and other honors they performed during their _probatio,_ ” explained Lincoln. “There are twelve Cohorts with the First Cohort being the most prestigious and exclusive and the Twelfth Cohort being the most accepting. Each Cohort has around ten to twenty demigods give or take, though the Third and Twelfth Cohorts are the biggest. Lexa, Anya, and I are all from the First Cohort.” 

 

“So how are the teams split for tonight’s game?” Clarke asked. 

 

Lincoln hesitated slightly, making Clarke slightly suspicious. “Well,” he drawled. “The offensive team is made up of Cohorts One through Seven and the rest of the Cohorts will be defending.”  
  


 

“Seems awfully unbalanced,” Raven remarked, eyeing Lincoln with a knowing eye. “Doesn’t sound fair.” Next to her, Octavia frowned in agreement. 

 

“It is not, no” Lincoln admitted with a sigh. 

 

“Why do I get the feeling that we’re going to be on the defending team?” Octavia asked, wrinkling her nose with distaste. Clarke narrowed her eyes in thought when Lincoln nodded, confirming Octavia’s suspicion.

 

“What would you say our chances of winning are then?” Clarke asked. 

 

There was a pause. 

 

“None,” came the eventual answer. 

 

Clarke saw both Raven and Octavia turn to her for guidance at the grim answer. She ignored them both and instead crossed her arms, deep in thought. Why would Lexa test them with a scenario that was impossible to win? Did Lexa even expect them to pull off a victory? Probably not. So what was the point?

 

Clarke shook her head. She looked back up at Lincoln. 

 

“Any other rules we need to know?” she asked, her mind already reeling with all the possibilities and strategies. 

 

Lincoln shook his head. “Not really. Lexa has however asked me to be on the defending side for today’s game despite the fact that I’m technically a legionnaire of Cohort One to aid you three during the Siege should you need it.”

 

Octavia grinned jokingly at that. “So she threw you over to the losing side as well, huh?”

 

Lincoln didn’t say anything. Clarke did notice he kept his gaze focused on the ground in front of him, almost as if he couldn’t look Octavia in the eye. 

 

_‘Interesting.’_

 

Clarke observed her own friend out of the corner of her eyes. Though she couldn’t tell for sure, Clarke had a feeling Octavia had picked up on Lincoln’s attraction to her, being the daughter of Aphrodite and all, and was subtly flirting with him this entire time. 

 

“With you on our side, maybe we’ll stand a better chance.”

 

Definitely flirting then. 

 

Clarke shook her head. Leave it to Octavia to get a guy wrapped around her finger in less than a day. 

 

“Thanks Lincoln,” said Clarke. “We’ll take it from here. Team meeting guys.”

 

* * *

  
  
  


“Okay, so what’s the plan Clarkey?” Raven asked as soon as they were alone. 

 

“So, this situation isn’t exactly ideal,” Clarke commented. 

 

Octavia snorted. “That’s one way of putting it. There’s literally no way we’re winning this. Lincoln said so himself.”

 

“Speaking of Lincoln,” Clarke grinned knowingly as she turned towards her friend. 

 

“Oh yes,” Raven jumped in, a shit eating grin on her face. “I’ve also noticed a little flirty flirty action going between y’all.”

 

Octavia rolled her eyes. “We are not discussing that right now. We literally have more important things to talk about”

 

“Fine,” Raven bit back. “But as soon as we figure out this mess, we are discussing your love life.” She pulled out a small wrench from her tool belt and started fiddling with it. She whirled her head around back to Clarke. “So? Any ideas?”

 

“Some,” Clarke mumbled, deep in thought. She looked to Raven. “What does your arsenal of explosives look like currently.”

 

“Umm,” Raven held up a hand, putting up a finger with each explosive she listed. “I have some mines, flash bombs, stink bombs, glue bombs, mud bombs, feather bombs-”

 

“Feather bombs?” Octavia asked. 

 

“Yeah, it’s for a prank on the Ares cabin,” replied Raven. "Monty and I have been planning it for weeks."

 

“Cool,” Octavia grinned, always down for a good prank and a chance to torment the Ares cabin. “When it happens, let me know. I want in.”

  
  
Raven grinned back. “Of course, chica! Now let’s see, where was I? Oh yes, I have some normal bombs as well as the fiery kind, and the sonic ones that destroy your eardrums when you set them off. Wouldn’t recommend that last one one unless you have some sturdy ear plugs. Couldn’t hear out of my left ear for a week after the last time.”

 

“Okay,” Clarke nodded. “We can work with that." She looked at Raven. "Do you always carry that many explosives with you? Is that safe? Aren't you basically a walking bomb all the time then?"

 

"Hey," Raven stated indignantly. "I know how to store my bombs, thank you very much. They're very safe."

 

"Okay," Clarke drawled, slightly unconvinced. "Back to situation at hand. Our main obstacle is their army. They have twice the amount of people we do.”

 

“As well as a war elephant, catapults, and scorpions,” Octavia reminded them. 

 

“Yes, but we get a wall and a fortress,” said Clarke. She was pacing now, in hopes of getting the blood running. “That will hold them, at least for a while.”

 

“We can’t let them get past that wall,” said Raven analytically. “Everything becomes a lot harder when they’re inside the wall. There’s practically no stopping them with the number of people they have.”

 

Clarke snapped as a realization hit her. She whirled around towards her friends, eyes wide with inspiration. “That’s it! Raven you’re a genius! Come on, follow me!” Clarke took off running. “We don’t have much time left!”

 

Raven gave Octavia a look. “What did I say?”

 

Octavia shrugged. “But it seems like Clarkey’s got an idea,” was all she said before running after their friend. 

 

“Hey wait for me!” Raven shouted before running after them. 

  
  


* * *

 

The Greeks were late for dinner. That was the first thing Lexa noticed as she swept her eyes around the mess hall. There wasn’t any sign of the Greeks, so instead she turned her attention to Lincoln. 

 

“Any intel about our new friends?” she asked, not bothering to try and be discreet. Earlier today, she had asked him to gather as much information on them as possible. Lincoln, being the son of Mercury, was very well suited for the job. 

 

Lincoln nodded, placing his fork and knife down out of respect to answer Lexa’s question. He cleared his throat once before beginning. 

 

“Clarke is clearly the brains of the group,” reported Lincoln.

 

Next to Lexa, Anya snorted. “Blondie’s the smartass of the group? Figures.”

 

“The other two seem to rely on her quite a bit for strategy and guidance. It is clear she is the leader of the group. She also has some healing skills, though I don’t know the extent of her abilities,” said Lincoln. "But apparently she was a healer back at her camp."

 

Lexa nodded at the information. She’d expected just as much. After all, Raven had called Clarke _‘the mastermind’_ behind Kronos’ fall, whatever that meant. Clarke being a healer was also an advantage. Both her and Anya were better at getting cuts than healing them. Lincoln was the only one with any hope in that department out of the three of them and even then, his skills were elementary at best, and child’s play compared to the children of Apollo. 

 

"What about her combat skills?" Lexa asked, trying not to sound _too_ interested in Clarke. Yet for some reason, Lexa found her skin practically buzzing for more information on the Greek leader. From across the table, she caught Luna's eyes and immediately looked away. Looking at Luna for too long was dangerous. Luna knew her so well, the Centurion could practically read her like a book. 

 

Lincoln shook his head. "She never gave anything away. Neither did her friends. But I reckon she's a solid fighter."

 

"She fought the Minotaur barehanded and won," Luna chimed in suddenly as all eyes turned to her. "She told me this morning. Apparently she didn't even know she was a demigod then."

 

Anya grunted from where she sat. "That's hardly impressive," she said coldly, chewing on her chicken. "We all know the Minotaur is all brawns and no brains. Any ten year old kid with a good head on 'em could beat it."

 

Lexa just turned to Lincoln and nodded for him to continue, eager to move on from Anya's comment.  

 

“According to some children of Vulcan, Raven spent nearly the entire day in the forge,” Lincoln stated. 

 

“Rebuilding their ship,” Luna chimed in once more, recalling what Clarke told her in the morning. 

 

“Yes, but there’s more,” Lincoln asserted. Lexa looked at Lincoln curiously, waiting for him to spill. 

 

“They said that she seemed completely immune to fire,” said Lincoln. “They said she would just reach right into the forge with her bare hands.”

 

Luna whistled in response, impressed. Even Anya raised an eyebrow, seemingly interested in Raven's ability. 

 

“A rare gift for the children of Vulcan,” Lexa acknowledged. She'd only heard of those being gifted with such talents from Vulcan in stories. “She must be rather blessed by her father then. Anything else?”

 

Lincoln shook his head. “Not on her.”

 

“And of Octavia?”

 

Lincoln suddenly coughed, reaching for his goblet and downing the entirety of its contents before clearing his throat. 

 

Lexa raised an eyebrow. She filed away the weird reaction for later analysis. 

 

“Not much on her,” Lincoln wiped his lips with his napkin, eyes glued to the table. Lexa narrowed her eyes at the boy’s obvious reaction. Judging by the way both Anya and Luna were watching him with assessing looks in their eyes, Lexa knew she was not the only who’d picked up on his weird behaviour. 

 

Luckily for him, Indra chose this moment to pipe in. 

 

“I saw her,” she said. “She was standing by the coliseum the better half of the day watching the legionnaire training.”

 

“Studying her opponents then,” Anya muttered into her goblet. “That was rather smart of her. I would’ve done the same.”

 

“Did she ever join in the coliseum?” Lexa asked. Indra shook her head. 

 

“She does seem to be a capable warrior,” Lincoln commented. All four heads turned to look at him. Lexa had to bite back a smile as Lincoln coughed shyly, noticing the looks he was getting. 

 

“Keep your eyes and ears peeled tonight,” Lexa instructed her Centurions. 

 

“Please, as if you didn’t already tip everything ridiculously in our favor, Lexie,” Luna grinned ignoring the glare Lexa shot her at the nickname. “It’s almost as if you want to send them home, which makes no sense since you were the one who wanted them here in the first place.” Luna leaned forward, gazing at Lexa analytically. 

 

Lexa refused to back down. “I may have been the one to advocate for this alliance, but I will not settle for mediocrity.”

 

Luna shrugged, leaning back in her seat. “Yes, well, I for one, hope they stay. I’ve grown quite attached to them. And I know I’m not the only one,” she grinned, sending a knowing wink in Lexa’s direction. Lexa had no idea what to make of the gesture. Being one of her oldest friends here at Camp Polis, Luna knew Lexa sometimes better than Lexa knew herself. 

 

“Oh look,” Luna grinned, eyes looking off into the distance where the entrance of the mess hall was. “Here they come.” 

 

Lexa turned. 

 

The Greeks entered still in their camp clothes and quickly gathered food before sitting down and eating. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but if Lexa squinted, she could just make out their muddy shoe bottoms. 

 

So they were at the Field of Mars just now, Lexa deduced. She wondered for the nth time that day, what it was the Greeks had planned for tonight’s game. 

 

And against her better judgement, she sent a silent prayer to her father, praying for her hypothesis to be right this time. 

 

For the remainder of the dinner, Lexa found her eyes constantly straying to the blonde. If Luna noticed her weird behaviour with those sly smiles she’d been sending her every time they met eyes, Lexa ignored her. 

  
  


* * *

 

 

  
“Nice armor,” Lincoln commented as he walked up to stand next to the three Greeks atop the wall. 

 

“Raven Reyes patented design,” Raven boasted. 

 

“I see,” he nodded. He turned and looked up, catching sight of Lexa circling above them in the skies atop her pegasus. 

 

“Lexa isn’t participating?” Clarke asked, confusion laced in her voice. Lincoln looked over to see the blonde fixated on Lexa’s figure in the sky. 

 

“No, she’s praetor so it’s not fair if she participates. She can only referee the games,” responded Lincoln. 

 

Clarke hummed, eyeing Lexa for another moment before commenting, “That seems rather sad and unfun. She only gets to watch others while never participating herself. She’s probably lonely up there.”

 

Lincoln didn’t know how to respond to that. No one, including him, had ever really questioned Lexa on whether or not she was having fun. Lincoln however, did know that Lexa was lonely, but for reasons he wasn't allowed to disclose. 

 

“She prefers to referee,” replied Lincoln softly. “She hasn’t participated in a war game in years.” _Not since she died…_

 

But Clarke didn’t need to know that and it wasn’t Lincoln’s place to tell her. Thankfully, Clarke let the conversation die, so instead Lincoln turned his gaze over to the fields where their opponents stood in plain sight, all lined up neat and orderly in formation. 

 

It was a daunting sight for sure. Back at Camp Ark, there were at most fifty or so campers. Here, Camp Polis boasted over two hundred campers. Though Clarke knew this from the start, the difference in size between the camps wasn’t as obvious as it was now, placed clearly before her eyes. 

 

 _‘If Camp Ark and Camp Polis went to war against each other,’_ Clarke gulped, a hint of dread seeping into her chest. _‘Camp Ark would be demolished.’_

 

“So,” Lincoln said, breaking Clarke out of her thoughts. “What’s the plan?" He gave her a look. "You do have a plan right?” Before Clarke could answer, a voice rang out. 

 

“Okay, Twelfth Cohort listen up!” Uzac shouted over the noise. “We’re charged with wall watching.”

 

A collective groan went over the crowd of Twelfth Cohort legionnaires. 

 

“Wall watch is the worst position to have when playing defense,” Lincoln explained to the Greeks. “You’re first to get hit and when the opponents get over the wall, it’s always your fault. Plus, you gotta face catapults and Hannibal, the-”

 

“The war elephant, we got it bro,” Raven interrupted. Lincoln straightened up trying to look unaffected at being cut off. 

 

Uzac’s voice continued to ring out over the field. “I want archers on the wall and spearmen interspersed with them. You guys are our first line of defense and will be responsible for keeping the attackers back and taking care of the catapults. Second line, you guys will be placed right behind the wall. Everyone else, you’re inside the fortress. Guard those banners with your life.”

 

His eyes flickered over to the Greeks and Lincoln. 

 

“You four can...do whatever," he said dismissively. He then turned back to the rest of the legionnaires in his Cohort. “Look we all know there’s no way we’re winning this. But let’s try to at least last longer than five minutes. I’ll be happy if we can do last ten.”

 

“What a speech,” Octavia muttered under her breath. 

 

“Yeah, Clarke, you can learn a thing or two from this guy,” Raven teased sarcastically. Clarke shushed them. 

 

“Alright, the game starts in a few! Get to your positions!” Uzac ordered and everyone scrambled in groups to their places. 

 

Lincoln turned to look at the Greeks. “So what’s our plan?”

 

Lincoln didn’t like the way the three of them grinned up at him. It reminded him of the way Luna, Lexa, Anya, and Costia would team up to prank him. It never ended well for him. 

 

“Come on, keep up big guy,” Octavia called over her shoulder as the three of them ran down the wall. Lincoln could only follow dumbfoundedly. 

 

* * *

  
  


“Why are we _in front_ of the wall?” Lincoln asked, halfway to a panic attack. He and the Greeks were currently crouched behind some bushes, only a few hundred feet away from the gathered forces of their opponents. 

 

“Shhh, keep your voice down,” Raven admonished him. “Do you want one hundred and twenty demigods to hear us?” 

 

Lincoln lowered his voice. “You know the whole point of the wall is to stand _behind_ it when people attack you right?” 

 

“Exactly,” Clarke explained in whispers. “Everyone is expecting us to be _behind_ the wall. But we’re not.”

 

Lincoln stared at the Greeks, the realization of their plan hitting him. “You’re going to _pre-attack_ them?” he asked incredulously. “Like a sneak attack? You do realize we’re on the defending team right? We're supposed to be defending, not attacking.”

 

“It’s better than just waiting to be attacked in my opinion,” Raven shrugged. “Besides isn’t offense the best defense?”

 

“That’s _suicidal!”_ Lincoln half screamed, half whispered. “Unless you haven’t noticed, there are _hundreds_ of them and only _three_ of you guys!”

 

“Four of us,” Octavia corrected. “What?” she asked when Lincoln looked at her like she was crazy. “You’re in this too now buddy.”

 

“Please tell me you guys have a plan,” said Lincoln, his voice pained. 

 

“Of course,” Octavia winked. “Who do you think we are?”  
  


 

“Okay,” Lincoln sighed, seemingly giving in to his fate. “What’s the plan?” He looked to Clarke to explain. Clarke however only turned to look at Raven and grinned. Lincoln watched as Raven pulled out several remote controls from her tool belt. 

 

“Explosives!”

 

Lincoln stared. “That’s it? They have a war elephant covered in Kevlar armor!”

 

“Don’t worry, we don’t plan on harming Hannibal,” said Clarke nonchalantly. 

 

“That’s the least of my worries here,” responded Lincoln with a sigh. 

 

“Word of advice,” Raven turned to Lincoln, a truly devious look in her eyes that made Lincoln want to shiver. “As soon as the horn blows to signal the beginning of the Siege, close your eyes as tightly as you can and do not open them until I tell you to.”

 

Lincoln was too scared to ask why. 

 

* * *

  
  


Lexa sat atop her pegasus flying around over the field, ready to play referee. After doing one more lap, Lexa glanced down at her watch. It was time. Bringing the war horn to her lips, Lexa blew into it. 

 

The Siege had officially started. 

 

Lexa watched as the First through Seventh Cohorts charged forward in perfect formation, a product of hours and hours of legion training. 

 

 _‘I wonder where the Greeks went off to,’_ Lexa thought to herself. She’d been trying to search for that golden head of hair for the past ten minutes to no avail. She could only assume that Clarke and her friends were placed inside the fortress, guarding one of its banners.

 

 _'A futile effort,'_ Lexa thought to herself. 'They'll _fail to protect them in the end. There's no way they can prevail in these conditions.'_  

 

Lexa watched the attacking team march towards the wall. She awaited its fall. 

 

Only it never came. 

 

Instead, right before the attacking Cohorts stormed the wall, the earth exploded.  Lexa’s pegasus, several tens of feet in the air, reared back from the sudden shock, neighing in agitation. 

 

“Easy boy,” Lexa calmed her Pegasus before scanning the battlegrounds below her for any sign of what had just happened. Her eyes took in the wreckage below. 

 

Almost all of the Seventh, Sixth and Fifth Cohorts were knocked out cold, though they didn’t seem to be injured greatly. The rest of the attacking forces looked winded. Some of them had mud splattered all over their fronts. Others had - was that glue and feathers? - stuck on them. Formations were a completely gone. Even Hannibal was looking a little dazed. 

 

“A preemptive attack,” Lexa realized what the explosions were. “They attacked first making it easier to defend later. Those sneaky Greeks,” she muttered to herself, a small grin forming on her lips unseen by anyone. A part of her couldn’t help but find the plan brilliant. 

 

Though the Siege just started, it already was beyond her expectations. It seemed that she’d really underestimated Clarke. 

  
  


* * *

 

“It worked! Beautiful!” Raven exclaimed, cackling. Her patented explosives had worked perfectly.  

 

“Come on! Commence part two of the plan!” Clarke yelled as she ran out of their hiding spot and into the open. 

 

Lincoln startled in bewilderment. “Where are you going? You’re going to get trampled! What’s part two?” he stammered, hurriedly getting onto his feet and chasing after the blonde. 

 

“Part two,” Octavia smirked as she ran next to him. “Is hijacking Hannibal the elephant.”

 

“Wow, I like this plan almost as much as I liked the first plan,” Lincoln remarked dryly. 

 

“Which means it’ll be just fine,” Octavia shrugged nonchalantly. “Just look at your so called prestigious First and Second Cohorts.”

 

Lincoln had to admit that he’d never seen the first Cohorts in such disarray before. Weapons and scraps of armor lay scattered on the ground everywhere. He even spotted a spare shoe hanging off of Hannibal’s husk. Anya was covered head to toe in feathers and cursing at anyone that came within a foot of her. Lincoln had to fight back a laugh at the sight.

 

The first Cohorts were clearly expecting a very easy Siege. They did not get one. 

 

“Hurry up! He’s waking up!” Clarke called to them from atop Hannibal. 

 

“Hannibal’s a she!” Lincoln yelled back before sprinting after them. He definitely didn’t want to be on the ground when Hannibal’s mind did clear up. She was going to be angry and an angry war elephant made for a very chaotic rampage. Also, he doubted any of the Greeks had ever ridden, let alone driven a war elephant before. 

 

“YOU HEATHENOUS GREEKS!” Anya’s voice rang clear over the field. “YOU WILL PAY!”

 

Lincoln ran faster. Anya sounded furious. 

 

He docked one of his own flash arrows onto his bow and let it fly loose just for precaution’s sake. He did not feel like getting skewered by the end of her very sharp sword. (He had watched her sharpen it earlier today). 

 

As his arrow landed, he heard Anya's furious roar in response. Lincoln pumped his legs faster and leapt onto Hannibal, praying as he held on for dear life. 

 

* * *

  
  


Lexa watched as the Greeks and Lincoln climbed aboard Hannibal and then proceeded to destroy all of the catapults and then knock out almost the entirety of the Roman ranks on this side while a single legionnaire had yet to move on the defending team. 

  
Her nose flared and her lips thinned, her expression stuck somewhere between exasperation and amusement. The practiced precision of the prestigious first Cohorts fell apart almost devastatingly at the confrontation of the unconventional Greek tactics. Lexa didn't know whether to cry or laugh. 

 

In all honesty, it was quite hilarious to see the pride of the Twelfth Legion so lost and so out of their comfort zone. Lexa hadn’t seen Anya wear that look on her face in years and she reveled in it. If only she could take a picture of this moment, she’d treasure it forever. Luna too was just as unlucky, having been hit by a stink bomb by the looks of it. Her legionnaires were avoiding their Centurion like the plague. 

 

On the other hand, it was also infuriating to watch the Greeks toy with them so easily. When Lexa set up this test, she hadn’t expected the Greeks to be able to do more than just lose, albeit after putting in some well-meant, but meaningless effort. Yet here they were passing her test with flying colors beyond her imagination. 

 

Lexa knew however, that this chaos would not last long. Her eyes narrowed on Anya and Luna’s figure, who both stood strong despite the rampaging elephant, a look of defiance on the former and a look of determination on the latter.

  
  
They would put a stop to this mess soon. 

 

_‘Enjoy your victory for now, Clarke. It will be short lived.’_

  
  
  


* * *

 

“Y-y-you know what?” Raven stuttered as she held onto the Hannibal’s fastings for deal life. “I think I prefer pegasus and hippocampus to giant elephants.”

 

“Are you kidding me?” Octavia laughed, one hand waving crazily in the air as if she were on a rollercoaster. “This is the best thing ever! Do you think we can get one of these things for home?”

 

“FIRST COHORT TO ME!” they heard Anya shout over the chaos. Clarke twisted her neck and watched a few of the battered and beaten legionnaires gather themselves in formation next to a feathered Anya. 

 

“SECOND COHORT TO ME!” Luna yelled similarly. Her legionnaires gathered around her a bit more reluctantly, each pinching their noses to avoid the bad smell she was permeating. 

 

“This is bad,” Octavia noted, urgency coloring her tone. “They’re starting to organize themselves again.”

 

“What’s next in your plan?” Lincoln shouted, face pale white from fear of falling off and breaking his neck. 

 

Clarke didn’t get a chance to answer his question. Hannibal suddenly bucked so violently all four of them lost their grip on the elephant and were tossed to the ground like salad leaves. 

 

“Oof!” Raven cried out as she landed harshly on her back. “Ow ow ow. I think the armour almost made it worse somehow.”

 

“Okay, so that wasn’t all that fun,” Octavia groaned, struggling to her feet. She could already feel her hip bruising from when she twisted last minute during the fall to avoid hitting her head. 

 

“I think there is a rock in my shoulder,” Clarke grimaced. She reached behind and wrenched it out. “Got it.” 

 

“Never again,” Lincoln gasped, grasping desperately for his bow which he'd dropped midfall. 

 

“Oh come on, you’re tougher than that,” said Octavia, slapping him on the shoulder. He straightened up instantly and if Clarke wasn’t still reeling from her fall, she would’ve laughed.  

 

Hannibal, free of any riders, ran off into the distance away from the Siege leaving both sides to their own devices. Lincoln groaned. They'll have to calm her down later. 

 

“Now what?” Octavia demanded, drawing her sword for the first time. Raven followed suit, pulling out her knife, while Lincoln docked an arrow in his bow. 

 

“Now we retreat,” Clarke pulled at Octavia to run. “There’s no way we can hold our own against all of them by ourselves. Retreat back to the wall!”

 

They did not need to be told twice. Clarke, Raven, Octavia, and Lincoln ran towards the gate weapons drawn with over sixty demigods hot on their tail. 

 

“Open the gate!” Lincoln yelled as they neared the gate. “Let us through!”  
  


 

“And let them all in behind you?” Uzac responded. “No way! You Greeks should have stayed on this side of the wall.”

 

“The first thing you learn in war games,” Lincoln muttered as he stared up contemptly at Uzac. “Is who you can trust and who will stab you in the back.”

 

“You ungrateful little-” Raven cursed. “We did all the work while you all just sat there!”

 

“Let us through!” Clarke commanded. “I’ll make sure none of them get through.”

 

Uzac raised a condescending eyebrow. Clarke wanted to burn them off his smug face. “And how are you going to stop them, Greek?”

 

Clarke suddenly stopped running and whirled around. 

 

“Clarke!” Lincoln yelled in alarm, stopping in his tracks. He was forcefully pulled along by the arm by Octavia. 

 

“Don’t worry about her! She’s got this!” Octavia told him as she dragged him along. 

 

“Open the gate!” Clarke yelled, standing her ground against the angry remains of the first Cohorts. They stormed towards her, angry and hungry for revenge. Feathers flew haphazardly in the air. Perhaps it wasn’t smart to provoke them with the stink and feather bombs. 

 

“Open the damn gate!” Octavia demanded insistently. 

 

“Listen to them!” Lincoln shouted, going so far as to aim his arrow at Uzac. 

 

“Before we knock it down ourselves!” Raven threatened. “I think I still got some of those explosives left.” She reached into her belt. "So unless you want to share the same fate as them..."

 

“Fine!” Uzac growled. “Open the gate,” he ordered. “But if a single one of them-”

 

“Oh as if they wouldn’t already be on the other side of this damn wall if it weren’t for us,” Octavia bit back. Uzac appeared a little mollified at that as Lincoln bit back a grin. 

 

The gates opened just the slightest, allowing Lincoln, Raven, and Octavia to slip through a small gap. 

 

“But what about-” Lincoln whirled around to see Clarke standing alone as the sole obstacle between the wall and their incoming opponents. “Come on Clarke!” he yelled, worry coloring his tone. “Hurry! Before the gate closes!”

 

The gates began to close slowly. 

 

“Clarke!” Raven called out. “Anytime now buddy!”

 

Clarke didn’t pay them any attention. Instead, she tapped the bracelet on her right wrist which instantly transformed into a long black sword. She raised it high into the air. 

 

Lincoln stared at the darkness of the sword’s material in awe. “Stygian Iron,” he murmured. “That’s Stygian Iron.” The metal that was only available in the Underworld and deadly to all living things, mortal and god alike. 

 

From up in the air, Lexa had froze similarly, absolutely captivated. Every cell in her being was hanging on to Clarke’s next move. 

 

“Rise and serve me!” Clarke commanded. She stabbed the earth, the blade easily sinking in. A large fissure began to form from the small crack Clarke made causing the first Cohorts to pause in their advance as the earth rumbled. 

 

As the earth split open, skeleton hands emerged from the depths of the fissure and undead warriors crawled their way out, ready to serve. 

 

The Roman legionnaires stumbled back in fear as the wave of undead warriors did not stop. 

 

“That’s..” Lincoln swallowed, staring at the undead warriors while trying to fight off his own fear. “Right, Luna did mention...that.”

 

“Guard the wall,” Clarke told the undead before turning around and running through the opened gate. 

 

“Close the gate!” Uzac ordered as soon as Clarke was through and safe on the other side. 

 

“You have an entire army of undead skeleton warriors at your command?” Lincoln asked her with wide eyes. 

 

“What? You mean you don’t?” said Clarke, grinning. Her sword had already turned back into a bracelet and Lincoln couldn't help but stare at it. Clarke tapped the Roman on the back. “Now come on. It’s time to begin phase two of the plan. Those skeleton warriors won’t last very long.”  

 

“Phase two,” Lincoln repeated, staring at the running back of Clarke. “You mean there’s more to your crazy plan?”

  
  
  


* * *

 

“Stupid pesky little fuckers!” Anya cursed as she chopped and hacked her way through the fifty undead warriors. In her blind anger, she didn’t see an undead warrior swinging for her ankle until it was too late. Luckily for her, someone else had taken notice and the undead warrior was quickly reduced to ash by an imperial gold gladius. 

 

“Luna,” Anya greeted her fellow Centurion solemnly. Her nose wrinkled at the smell that invaded her nose. 

 

“Anya,” Luna nodded, returning the greeting, her eyes twinkling with excitement.  

 

“You need a bath,” Anya snarled. 

 

“And you look like a chicken,” Luna shot back grinning. 

 

“The Greeks are making fools of us,” Anya growled, her voice low and dangerous. The two Centurions stood back to back, fending off the undead army. 

 

“I admit, it was pretty ingenious,” Luna grinned only to feel Anya’s body stiffen in unamusement. “Oh come on. They caught us off guard. It won’t happen again.”

 

“It better not,” Anya snarled as she hacked through another undead warrior. “You take the banner. I’m not taking any chances anymore. That blonde Barbie is devious.”

 

“Reducing me to banner bearer?” Luna gasped in mock offense whilst stabbing a skeleton and reducing it to ash. “Are you that worried the Greeks will win? Even with half our forces incapacitated, we still outrank them in terms of skill and experience.”

 

“That’s what we thought before more than half of our forces were destroyed by their petty tricks. They even stole Hannibal. I don’t trust the Greeks to play fair. Take the banner.”

 

“Fine,” Luna conceded. She nodded towards the wall upon noticing that the undead army was mostly reduced to only a few stragglers. “So how are we going to get in?”

 

Anya raised an eyebrow at the girl. “You tell me, daughter of Neptune.”

 

Luna chuckled. “Use my water controlling powers. Right. Got it.” She raised both hands. “I hope they’re ready for a bath then.”

 

“Do take the time to douse yourself off too. I wasn't kidding when I said you stink,” muttered Anya, pinching at her nose. 

 

* * *

  
  


Clarke paused her running. “What is that sound?” she asked looking up at the sky. 

 

“What sound?” Raven asked, craning to hear what Clarke was talking about. 

 

“It kind of sounds like...running water?” Octavia questioned. 

 

Lincoln’s eyes widened. He recognized the sound from the many previous times he was almost drowned by the daughter of Neptune. “Run!” he shouted. “Get into the fortress now! That’s Luna. She’s about to flood this whole place and take the wall down.”

 

“No need to tell me twice,” Raven muttered, making a beeline for the fortress. She’d already almost drowned once here at Camp Polis and if you asked her, once was enough. 

 

There was an unmistakable crashing sound of a tidal wave hitting brick. Clarke didn’t have to turn around to know that their wall was reduced to rubble. The water that licked at her ankles and soaked her shoes told her all she needed to know. Their opponents were in. 

 

“Oh great. They gave Luna the banner too. We’re never getting it from her,” said Lincoln who had craned his neck around to observe the situation. “And wow, Anya looks pissed. I don’t think I’ve seen her that mad since Cohort Two cut off her hair while she was sleeping as a prank. If I were you, I’d start praying for a quick death.”

 

“Wow, let’s just call you Mr. Optimism shall we?” Raven remarked. “We’ll be fine. So far, everything’s been within Clarke’s calculations. Right buddy?” She looked to the blonde who nodded. 

 

They paused right outside of the fortress entrance. The five assigned guards eyed them with distrust but didn’t do anything to hinder them. If they were being honest, they hadn't expected for the game to last as long as it had. 

 

“Alright,” Clarke said licking her lips. “Here’s phase two. Raven, I need you to activate Festus.”

 

“You being serious with me right now, blondie?” Raven looked at Clarke as if she were a child at Disney. 

 

“Never been more serious, babe,” Clarke quipped. 

 

“Yes!” Raven exclaimed, pulling Clarke in for a hug. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that all summer!” She whooped once before running off to the back of the fortress. 

 

“Uh, where is she going and what is a Festus?” Lincoln asked, eyebrows furrowed in worry. “Somehow, I have a feeling I won’t like the answer.”

 

“Festus is a fire breathing mechanical dragon that Raven built for fun last summer,” Octavia answered nonchalantly. 

 

Lincoln stared at her. “You guys have a fire breathing mechanical dragon?”

 

“Yup,” Octavia grinned. 

 

Lincoln looked at Clarke. “And you think having a war elephant is crazy?"

 

Clarke shrugged before turning to Octavia and Lincoln. “I need you two to do everything you can to stop them from reaching the last banner. We’ll be fine as long as we save one banner, right?”

 

Lincoln nodded. 

 

“Good, go to the one in the basement of the fortress. That’s the hardest one to find,” instructed Clarke. “Do whatever you can to stop them. We can win this.” And for the first time since this whole game started, Lincoln believed it too. 

 

“Roger that captain,” said Octavia. “And you?”

 

Clarke swallowed. “I’m going to find a way to get that banner from Luna.”

 

Lincoln fought back a laugh. Beating Luna was still an impossibly foregone conclusion. No one ever beat Luna in one on one combat. Even Lexa had trouble. Especially if Luna went all out on her powers.  “Good luck, Clarke.”

 

Clarke eyed the two of them for a second before nodding. “You too.” Then she took off. 

 

* * *

  
  


Clarke found Raven activating Festus behind the fortress. Festus was a twenty foot long mechanical dragon, whose schematics Raven found in an old war bunker back at Camp Ark last summer. How Raven kept the dragon inside her tool belt, Clarke had no idea. 

 

“Can I hitch a ride?” she asked, as she ran up to them.

 

Raven whirled around, a screwdriver in hand. “Yup! Hop on! Just gotta get this loose screw here and yup! We’re good to go!”

 

Festus eyes lit up red. It moved its head and wings into a position ready for take off. 

 

“Alright!” Raven cheered, climbing aboard in front of Clarke. “Hold on tight now.” Raven leaned in close to Festus’s ears. She patted his ears fondly. “Let’s go boy. Yip yip.”

 

Festus did not need any more encouragement. He took off into the sky so fast, Clarke almost got whiplash. 

 

“Did you steal that from Avatar the Last Airbender?” she asked Raven over the wind. 

 

“Maybe!”

 

They flew over the fortress, surprising _everyone_ on both sides. 

 

“Burn baby burn!” Raven yelled as she scorched the ground near the wall, creating a fire wall between those still trying to get in and the fortress. 

 

“Nice!” Clarke yelled. “That should hold them up.” If her estimations were correct, only about thirty or some demigods actually made it over the wall. That was a much more manageable number. She hoped the demigods on her side would be enough to hold them off. 

 

She suddenly heard the sound of beating wings that didn’t sound mechanical. Looking up, she realized they were right next to Lexa who had been watching up in the air the whole time.

 

“What’s up Lexa?” Clarke grinned unable to help herself. She knew exactly how ridiculous her and Raven looked right now. 

 

Lexa didn’t respond, but the bewildered look she wore on her face as she took in Festus’s whole existence was enough to make Clarke laugh. Even her pegasus looked shocked. 

 

Lexa seemed to come to her senses at the sound and gathered herself quickly, schooling her expression into a more neutral one. “You really are full of surprises, Clarke.”

 

Though Lexa had said it quietly, Clarke could just barely make out the words of praise over the wind. 

 

“Thanks!” Clarke winked. “I’ve still got some more up my sleeves.”

 

“I’m sure you do,” said Lexa with a small smile and if Clarke was kidding herself, she’d say the girl almost sounded a mix of exasperated and fond. 

 

“Well, we’ll catch you later,” said Clarke. “I have a banner to steal.”

 

Lexa merely nodded in response but that was enough for Clarke. Lexa went back to refereeing the game and Raven maneuvered Festus over the wall. 

 

“What was that?” Raven yelled.

 

“What was what?” Clarke yelled back. 

 

“That. Just now. You were totally flirting with the praetor!” 

 

“Was not!” Clarke denied hotly. “Besides, can you help me find Luna? She has the banner!”

 

“I see her,” responded Raven. “And don’t think I’m dropping this Clarkey!"

 

“Well can you please drop me off next to Luna?” Clarke asked as a cannon sounded off in the distance. 

 

“Fuck! Does that mean they already claimed a banner?” Raven asked. 

 

“We have to hurry!” Clarke urged. 

 

“No need to tell me twice,” said Raven. “Let’s go Festus buddy. We have one special air delivery to give to one Ms. Luna.”

 

Once they were close enough, Clarke took a deep breath and jumped off. 

 

Below her, Luna looked up at her with surprise and horror as she freefalled over thirty feet. 

  
  


* * *

 

“The banner’s inside that room. There are two or three guards inside but they won’t be able to do much against Anya, Indra, or Gustus,” said Lincoln. 

 

“Then I guess it’s up to us, huh?” Octavia looked around. All that stood between Anya and them taking the banner was her and Lincoln. 

 

“I’ve been in worse situations,” said Octavia, trying to sound confident as she twirled her sword. “I think.” She paused. “I almost got married to a cyclops once.”

 

“You what?” asked Lincoln, shooting Octavia an incredulous stare. 

 

Octavia shrugged. “It’s a long story.”

 

Suddenly, there was a loud cannon sound. 

 

“What’s that?” Octavia asked. 

 

“That…” Lincoln sighed. “Would be them taking the first banner.” He switched out his bow and arrows for the _gladius_ by his side. 

 

“Only two more then,” said Octavia, her skin buzzing with energy and her grip tight on her sword. “Don’t worry Clarke will come through.”

 

Lincoln didn’t look too convinced but he didn’t say anything. 

 

Suddenly, the doors burst open and in barged Anya looking like the war god himself with a spear in one hand and a sword in the other. Well, a war god covered in feathers. She was followed by Indra who had her signature permanent scowl on her face, and mud splattered everywhere. Gustus followed closely behind the two looking rather clean and unscathed. 

 

“Hello,” Octavia greeted, her voice calm unlike her heart. “Been waiting for ya to show up.”

 

“Anya, you’ve certainly looked better,” coughed Lincoln. 

 

“Shut up,” Anya growled, raising her sword at Octavia. “I am going to cut you and your Greek friends like gyro meat.”

  
“Wow,” Octavia exclaimed. “Big on Greek culinary, are ya?”

 

Indra growled. “Enough talk.”  She charged and Octavia matched her straight on. She was not sure how she was going to hold of four of the most experienced fighters in the legion all at once with only one other person to back her up, but she sure as hell was going to try. 

 

 

* * *

  
  
  


Clarke summoned her sword mid fall and swiped at Luna who blocked it easily. Ricocheting off the block, Clarke twisted her body and rolled on to the ground rather forcefully. She stood up wincing. There was definitely going to be bruise on her shoulder. She did not recommend free dropping from thirty feet in the air, but she did have harder bones than other people. 

 

“Now that’s an entrance,” Luna grinned, impressed with everything Clarke had pulled off against the first Cohorts so far. “I can’t say I’ve seen anyone jump off a fire breathing mechanical dragon before.” 

 

“Thank you,” Clark tilted her head. “I aim to impress.”

 

“And impress us you have,” said Luna with a raised eyebrow. “Who do I have to thank for the wonderful stink I was subjected to earlier.”

 

“Raven,” replied Clarke lightly. “She’s our master of explosions.”

 

“Clearly,” said Luna. “I’m sure no one would be forgetting that around here anytime soon. You really did a number on us. That said however, I can’t just give you this banner behind me.”

 

Clarke shrugged, an easy smirk playing at her lips. “That’s okay. I was planning on taking it anyway.”

 

Luna laughed. “Cheeky brat.” She lowered herself into position. “Come then. Let us see who is stronger, the daughter of Neptune or the daughter of Hades.”

 

Clarke matched Luna’s confident smirk. Then, as if someone had counted them off, they lunged at each other simultaneously, swords drawn. 

 

Black Iron clashed against gold. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Another cannon sounded off in the distance as Clarke and Luna traded blows, leaving both panting. 

 

“You’re rather quick with the sword, aren’t you?” Luna asked through heavy breaths. 

 

“Learned from the best ghosts in the Underworld,” replied Clarke with a confident grin. 

 

Luna raised an eyebrow at the statement. “That sounds quite depressing actually.”

 

“It is until you realize that I was trained Achilles himself,” Clarke shrugged like it was no big deal even though it had meant endless of hours of pain for her. 

 

Luna’s eyes went wide with surprise. She appraised Clarke as if she were seeing the blonde in a new light. “You really are full of surprises. With you here, I can leave Lexa without any guilt.”

 

Clarke blinked. “What-” She didn’t have time to finish her question as Luna suddenly lunged at her, a whirlwind of water at her feet. 

 

Clarke froze. She didn’t have time to defend. Luna was coming way too fast. Clarke was out of options. 

 

So she did the only thing she could think of. She closed her eyes and breathed. 

 

* * *

  
  
  


“I have to admit, I’m rather impressed you lasted this long,” remarked Anya. 

 

Octavia panted heavily as she leaned on her sword. Her body was beaten black and blue and she could barely stand. Lincoln laid to one side, knocked out after a heavy blow from Anya. 

 

Compared to them, Anya, Indra and Gustus were all relatively unscathed. Try as hard as they did, Octavia and Lincoln were just no match for them, especially Anya who attacked like an unrelenting hurricane. 

 

“Just give up now,” said Indra, a deep cut bleeding profusely under eye. Octavia eyed it proudly. It was one of the few solid hits she managed to get in before they were overpowered. 

 

“The second banner is already taken,” said Gustus. “You know you can’t win this.”

 

Octavia sneered. “I wouldn’t say that.” She believed in Clarke. If anyone could win this for them, Clarke would. She would just have to hold out just a little longer to buy Clarke some time. 

 

The Romans steadied their swords. 

 

“You are foolish, _Graecus,”_ Indra growled, though Octavia sensed a hint of pride in her tone. 

 

“Maybe,” Octavia grinned, blood staining her teeth. “And I might be Greek, but I’m not a quitter. Come at me with your worst. You’re not getting this banner.”

 

The Romans looked at each other before charging. Octavia braced herself.

 

However, just before they could reach her, the walls to the fortress suddenly exploded and Raven flew through the hole atop a slightly mangled Festus who had a couple of arrows sticking out of him and oil leaks. 

 

“Anyone order a fire breathing dragon?” she grinned, her face covered in soot. 

 

Octavia sighed in relief at the sight of her friend, practically slumping to the ground. 

 

In the distance, the horn sounded. The Siege was over. 

 

Octavia looked up in wonder. Raven matched her expression. The three Romans all looked at each in confusion. They hadn't retrieved the last banner yet, so how was the game over? Then realization enlightened their faces. 

 

Octavia wanted to laugh. They had won. Clarke pulled through. 

 

That was Octavia’s last thought before she completely blacked out. 

  
  


* * *

 

Luna nearly stumbled to a stop, the water dissipating under her feet as the war horn sounded from above. Luna whirled around towards the banner and to her utter surprise, found Clarke standing there clutching it in her hand. 

 

“How?” Luna demanded. She had been charging at Clarke and almost had her when the blonde suddenly just disappeared. Vanished. Into thin air. 

 

Clarke grinned tiredly at her. “Special Hades trick. Shadow travel. I can disappear and reappear just about anywhere within milliseconds.”

 

Luna scoffed, smiling to herself in amusement as her mind came to terms with what Clarke just revealed to her. “You mean this _entire_ time, you could’ve easily stolen our banner whenever you wanted? And you chose not to?” 

 

Clarke shrugged as she transformed her sword back into a black bracelet. “I hoped I didn’t have to use it. It’s kind of cheating, don’t you think?”

 

Luna shook her head once more in disbelief. Clarke literally had the ability to end the siege in a matter of seconds, with no one in this entire camp knowing any better, and yet she chose to keep her trump card until the end. And even then, she only used it because she ran out of options. Why?

 

Luna looked up at the sound of beating wings. She watched as Lexa climbed down her pegasus, her eyes never leaving the blonde almost as if she were transfixed. She watched as Clarke grinned wearily, yet beautifully, up at Lexa as she accepted the girl’s congratulations and handshake. 

 

And in that moment, Luna knew she was right. Lexa would be alright and Clarke would play a huge role in making sure of that. 

 

_‘Then I guess my time here is up as well. I must go back to my sisters.’_

 

* * *

  
  


“Who would’ve thought,” Anya grumbled later that night as she stood next to Lexa and Lincoln in front of the twenty foot tall statue of Jupiter inside the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus. The gentle breeze of the late summer night blew through the air and the stars twinkled overhead in the night sky.

 

Lexa turned to her friend, eyes twinkling similarly to the stars with what Anya could only describe as hope. 

 

Anya scoffed. She was only a little bit pissed at losing. “It seems your little allegiance might pay off just yet.”

 

“They are definitely something,” Lincoln muttered. He’d just woken up a few hours ago but besides a rather nasty looking bulge on his head, he was fine. (He had Anya to thank for the bulge on his head.)

 

“I honestly didn’t expect to win even in my wildest dreams,” Lexa admitted. She turned to look back at the statue of her father. Perhaps he’d heard her prayers after all. 

 

“Clarke is definitely an asset to have on our side,” Lincoln remarked, his tone giving away just how much he believed in his statement. He learned firsthand today not to make an enemy out of Clarke. Though he knew Clarke was a child of Hades, to him, she almost seemed more like a child of Athena, the Greek god of war and wisdom. The way she played to her friend's strengths and executed tactics beyond anyone's predictability, he wouldn’t be surprised if the goddess favored Clarke as if she were her own. 

 

“She practically orchestrated the whole thing to her whim,” said Lincoln, a hint of awe coating his voice. “With the two of you working together, I have more confidence in our plan to fall the Mountain.” 

 

Anya only answered with a small snort. She wanted so badly to bash the one called Raven on the head for her specialty explosions that covered her in feathers but it looked like she lost the chance as they were now officially allies. "I will still make them pay for this humiliation, one way or another," said Anya begrudgingly. Lexa smiled, knowing that Anya meant no harm, usually and that this was her way of giving Lexa support for her plans.

 

Both Lincoln and Luna had given her a full report of what had happened during the Siege. The conclusion she came to only fortified her initial suspicions. Clarke was the one. She was the one that was going to help Lexa accomplish what she wanted most. 

 

The smile suddenly dropped off her face. The look of happiness was replaced with one of determination. As she gazed upon her father’s face, Lexa made a promise she vowed to keep with everything she had. 

 

“The Mountain will fall.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	7. A Quaint Little Roman Cafe at Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clexa go on their first date?  
> A third party interrupts it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning, this chapter is essentially a fluff chapter since we didn't get enough clexa last chapter. i think i might've went a bit overboard though. let me know if you think their relationship is progressing too fast. also, fluff is not my forte.

Clarke woke up to the sound of someone knocking quite urgently on the door of their barrack. 

 

“Claarrrke.” She heard Octavia complain from the bed next to hers as the girl tossed around in bed, clearly upset at being woken up so early. 

 

“What time is it?” Raven’s sleep ladened voice spoke out.  

 

Clarke sat up, squinting at her friends when the knocking paused briefly, offering a moment of repose, only to start again. She shot them both questioning gazes and received only confused, one eyed disgruntled expressions back in return. 

 

“Claarrrrke,” Octavia groaned once more, her voice muffled as she shoved her head under her pillow. 

 

Clarke replied with only an annoyed grunt, because whatever time it was, it was way too early for simple motor functions or coherent thoughts. Plus her body still ached from all the running they had to do last night during the Siege. 

 

Forcing herself to get out of bed, because no, the knocking still hadn’t stopped - gods whoever was at the door was  _ persistent _ \- Clarke stomped over to the door and yanked it open without a care in the world for her appearance. Though in hindsight she really should’ve fixed her hair and straightened her pajamas because standing in front of her was a very put together, hair already braided with a very complicated design, makeup already on, and altogether very disconcerting sight of the praetor of the Twelfth Legion, Lexa. 

 

Clarke blinked bearily twice just to make sure she wasn’t still sleeping and suddenly dreaming. She peeked over Lexa’s shoulder briefly just out of curiosity. The sun was just rising in the horizon but the sky was still mostly dark. 

 

So the answer to Raven’s previous question was  _ very early _ then. 

 

“Who is it?” Raven slurred, half asleep and half awake. 

 

“Good morning, Clarke,” Lexa’s clear voice, though lovely to hear most of the times, was still too much for Clarke who felt like a fumbling drunk as she grasped for words. She looked past Clarke into the bunker. “Good morning Raven.”

 

Raven’s response came in the form of a light snore. 

 

Lexa looked like she was trying hard to keep a stern expression and not laugh when she looked back at Clarke. Her eyes that twinkled like the stars at dawn were the only giveaway that Lexa found any humor in the current situation she’d found the Greeks in. 

 

“I wouldn’t really call this  _ ‘ _ morning’, Lexa.” Clarke’s voice came out low, raspy, and scratchy.

 

“Right.” A small curl of the lip. “But unlike the Greeks, we Romans prefer to get an early start on our day,” said Lexa. Her eyes briefly scanned Clarke’s disheveled figure up and down. Clarke never felt more exposed than she did now, standing in front of a pretty girl in her crumpled pink Cerberus pajama set. 

 

“Nice pajamas,” Lexa complimented, a small smirk tugging at her lips. Clarke flushed. It was unfair for Lexa to look this good this early in the morning ( _ not morning, technically it was dawn _ ) when Clarke was still barely a functioning human person. 

 

“Hades got it for me on my sixteenth birthday,” Clarke mumbled, only half embarrassed as she picked at the hem of her pajama shirt. 

  
The smirk on Lexa’s face turned even more smug. “It looks good on you.” 

 

Before Clarke could respond - because honestly, what was she supposed to say to that? Why would Lexa compliment how she looked in her kiddie pajamas, wild bed hair and probably drool dried on her chin when Lexa was standing there looking like a goddess herself? - Raven’s sleep laced frustrated voice cut into the conversation. 

 

“Praetor, if you came to our barrack at freaking _ five i _ n the morning just to flirt with Clarke in the doorway, please kindly find another place to do so because I am trying to  _ sleep _ .”

 

“Word,” Octavia agreed grumpily into her pillow. “Please go flirt somewhere else.”

 

Lexa cleared her throat as Clarke turned even redder at her friend’s teasing. 

 

_ ‘I am so going to kill them later.’ _

 

“Right,” Lexa seemed to gather herself, taking on her more serious and official persona again as she faced Clarke. Clarke, meanwhile, was still trying to wake up fully. “I came to tell you that there will be a senate meeting in half an hour at the Senate House near the west end of New Rome. I expect you to attend to represent your people of course. Though your friends may be exempt.”

 

“Woo!” Raven gave a weak cheer from her bed. 

 

“Though their attendance is highly recommended,” added Lexa. 

 

“Damn,” came Raven’s disappointed response. 

 

“We will be discussing this alliance and the quest,” informed Lexa. 

 

“Half an hour?” Clarke squinted, eyes still heavy with sleep. “That’s so early.”

 

“Early start,” Lexa reminded her gently. 

 

“Right,” Clarke grumbled. “We’ll be there,” she promised. “Anything else?”

 

Lexa looked like she was going to turn and leave only to hesitate at the door. Given Clarke’s drowsy state, she thought she almost imagined how unsure Lexa looked at that moment. 

 

Lexa looked away briefly before seemingly gathering courage and looking back at Clarke. “I was wondering if you’d want to join me to grab a quick bite before the meeting,” said Lexa almost shyly. “We don’t know how long the meeting will go on for. And it’s best not to debate on a hungry stomach. Plus… it is crucial, as the leaders of our people... for us to understand the other party.” 

 

At this point, it sounded like Lexa was just fishing for excuses to have breakfast with her. Clarke’s heart warmed at the thought. She practically fell on herself in haste to nod her agreement. 

 

“Y-yeah sure. Sounds great. We should...definitely get to know each other.” Clarke bit her lip. She really needed to stop talking before she embarrassed herself anymore with her half awake rambling. “Meet you down at the mess hall in ten?” The words tumbled out of her mouth faster than her head could keep up. 

 

Lexa gave her a small tight smile. “Actually, I was thinking we could go down to the forum. There are some cute cafes and shops that I’d like to show you.”

 

“Oh,” Clarke blinked, finding the idea of cafes being open at five in the morning rather absurd. But hey, if the Romans didn’t value their sleep, that’s their problem. “Yeah sure. Just gimme a second to change and brush my teeth?”

 

Lexa nodded. “I’ll be waiting outside.”

 

“Cool,” Clarke grinned, acutely aware that it was probably too wide. Her body was suddenly buzzing with energy. She definitely felt more awake than she did moments ago. 

 

“I’ll be right back then.” She gently closed the door, before making a mad dash for her suitcase under her bed and quickly changing into her pair of jeans and an orange Camp Ark t-shirt. 

 

“I can’t believe Miss Scary But Hot Commander came pounding on our door like the world was ending at five in the morning just to ask you out on a breakfast date,” Raven moaned in pain. 

 

“It’s not a date,” Clarke denied, hating the way she could feel her cheeks heat up at the thought of going on a date with Lexa. They’d only met two days ago for Zeus sake! This was a little fast, even for her. 

 

“Oh it’s a date alright,” Octavia chimed in smugly. “I’m a daughter of Aphrodite, remember? It’s literally in my blood to know stuff like this. It’s definitely a date.”

 

“Hah!” Raven cheered. 

 

“Clarkey’s got a crush,” Octavia sang, joining in on the teasing. 

 

“Shut up, no I don’t,” Clarke protested. “And aren’t you two supposed to be sleeping?” Her friends grumbled in response. 

 

Clarke quickly brushed her teeth and hair, making sure she looked presentable before swiftly walking towards the door. 

  
“Have fun on your date!” Octavia called out just as her hand touched the doorknob. 

 

“Buy us something will ya?” Raven’s chimed in. “If we have to join you in the stupid meeting then I want food.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. Y’all better be at the meeting later,” Clarke grumbled in response. “I am not facing a bunch of Roman politicians by myself.”

 

“Aye aye, Princess,” Octavia responded lazily before sprawling into her most comfortable position, ready to go back to the dreamworld. 

 

Clarke rolled her eyes at her friend before opening the door and walking out. True to her word, Lexa waited for her with her back leaning against the barrack wall, which she pushed off of as soon as she heard the door open. 

 

Clarke didn’t miss the way Lexa checked out her outfit, her eyes lingering at the words on her chest (or  _ cough _ just her chest. Clarke knew this shirt was getting a little snug on her considering she’d had this shirt since she was twelve and now she was already eighteen.) 

 

“You ready?” Lexa asked, tilting her heads towards New Rome. 

 

“Yeah,” Clarke inhaled, feeling the cool summer morning air in her lungs. 

 

“Perfect. I’ll show you my favorite cafe. Come on,” said Lexa as she turned and lead the way. 

 

The whole walk there, they talked about mundane things. Things like, what were are hobbies, what’s your favorite color, and how old are you?

 

(Clarke found out Lexa liked fencing, was actually nationally ranked as a fencer. Clarke had quipped back saying it was probably unfair of Lexa to even compete in the sport given her faster reflexes due to her disposition as a demigod and a child of Jupiter nonetheless. Lexa brushed her off by saying her achievements in fencing were a result of hard work and discipline, and not because she fought monsters with a golden Roman sword every summer or had  _ literally _ lightning fast reflexes. She also found out that Lexa liked the color purple - Clarke didn’t have to ask why. She figured Lexa’s pride as a Roman demigod expanded into her color biases. She also learned that Lexa was a year older than her, putting her at nineteen years old, and that Lexa was a summer baby, having been born in mid June.) 

 

(In return, Clarke told Lexa about her passion for painting, how she didn’t have a favorite color because of that reason, and that she was a winter baby, born in the middle of December on the day of the winter’s solstice - which was fitting really, for a child of Hades to be born on what was the darkest and shortest day of the year.)

 

“Here we are.” Lexa was full on smiling now as she pointed a small little cafe in the center of the forum which was the center of life in New Rome. 

 

Clarke squinted at the sign. She was greeted by a mash of what looked like English and foreign symbols. Gods, sometimes Clarke just hated her dyslexia. 

 

“The Case Vines?” she tried her best. 

 

“De Casu Venus,” Lexa corrected gently. “It’s Latin for Cafe of Venus.”

 

“Oh.” That would explain the stone fountain of a very naked goddess of love placed in front of the store. 

 

“They make the best coffee and salads,” insisted Lexa. 

 

Clarke turned to look at Lexa scornfully. “Of course you would enjoy salads. You seem like the type.”

 

Lexa laughed and Clarke’s heart fluttered in her chest. Lexa was practically glowing against the backdrop of the rising sun. The artist in her itched to capture this moment on canvas. Instead, she’d just have to settle for the next best thing which was to bask in the glorious presence that was Lexa. 

 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Lexa asked, lips curled into a small but carefree smile. 

 

Clarke decided she rather liked Lexa when she was like this. She’d thought the Roman praetor to be cold and calculating. However, Lexa completely changed after Clarke practically tore her test apart during the siege. 

 

“You know what it means,” Clarke grumbled. Gods, what happened to her flirting game? Did it die along with Finn? ( _ Yikes, _ Clarke inwardly flinched.  _ Too soon.) _

 

“Let’s head in.” Lexa lead them inside the cafe. The doors opened with a light chime. The inside was decorated like a garden with flowers and live plants decorating and adorning the walls which were painted a light pink, undoubtedly as a tribute to Venus. Several stone cupid statues lay throughout the cafe, completing the overall look of the cafe. 

 

All in all, it was definitely somewhere perfect to take someone out on a date. Clarke cursed Octavia and Raven in her head for planting the idea into her head. Now she couldn’t help but overanalyze the situation. 

 

_ ‘It’s Lexa’s favorite cafe. Stop overthinking it. Didn’t peg her to like this type of cafe though. I bet she just likes their salads, which ugh. That is rabbit food.’  _

 

A girl with a head full of bushy curly hair and a pretty countenance popped her head over the counter at their entrance, straightening up when she realized she had customers. 

 

“Praetor,” the sole waitress of De Casu Venus seemed surprised to see Lexa, which Clarke thought was suspicious considering Lexa’s claim about this being her favorite cafe. The waitress directed her attention to Clarke. Her eyes widened for a moment as she recognized Clarke. She took a second to take in Clarke’s presence before sending the blonde a small knowing smile.

 

 “ _ Clarissimum Graeciae princeps, _ ” she said, nodding her head once at Clarke in what looked like a gesture of respect. 

 

Completely lost because her knowledge of latin was literally zilch, Clarke turned to Lexa who looked...proud? Clarke couldn’t exactly read what emotion it was that Lexa was exhibiting. 

 

“What did she just call me?” Clarke asked. 

 

Lexa turned to Clarke, her eyes searching into Clarke’s. “She called you,  _ The Brilliant Greek Leader _ . A fitting title,” said Lexa, a hint of amusement to her tone. “Considering how you managed to upstage my best legionnaires yesterday.” Her words held no bite and the small smile on her lips told Clarke that she rather enjoyed watching Clarke make a mess of her first Cohorts. 

 

Clarke blushed, having been hit with a double compliment. She turned to the waitress with a shy look. “Uh, thank you…”

 

“Niylah,” the girl responded, eyes disappearing into adorable crescents as she beamed at Clarke, who was struck for a second by how understated Niylah’s beauty was given her first impression. Clarke had a feeling she could guess who Niylah’s godly parent was despite it not being obvious at first. 

 

“Nice to meet you, Niylah,” Clarke offered a kind smile. “I’m Clarke.”

 

“Yes, we all know of you Clarke,” Niylah grinned, her teeth white and perfect. “I’m in Cohort Five, so I got a taste of your brilliance first hand yesterday. I can’t say I’ve ever had that much fun during a siege before.”

 

“Ah,” Clarke could feel Lexa’s eyes boring into the side of her head for some reason and it made her feel clammy for unknown reasons. “Thank you.”

 

“No, thank you,” Niylah grinned. “Your breakfast is on me today.” Her eyes flickered to Lexa. “Your usual, Praetor?” She seemed hesitant for some reason, but Lexa nodded like everything was normal so Clarke dropped her suspicions. 

 

“Yes, please. Thank you, Niylah,” said Lexa. “And I can pay for-”

 

“Nonsense,” Niylah waved her hand dismissively. “Let me do this for the two of you. Now sit.” She ushered them to take a seat and Clarke and Lexa didn’t need any further encouragement, quickly taking a seat at the table for two in the middle of the cafe. 

 

“I recommend a-”

 

“I’m not eating a salad, Lexa,” Clarke interrupted, her nose scrunched up in mock disgust. 

 

Lexa sent her a look that was a mix between adoration and exasperation. “I was going to say Niylah’s sandwiches are always great.”

 

“Oh,” Clarke scanned the menu. “I guess I’ll try the…Genovese Trappizino?” She looked over to Lexa for validation because frankly, she just picked whatever, but Lexa was staring at her as if she’d seen a ghost - which was honestly not too crazy considering the fact that Clarke was a daughter of Hades and lost ghosts tended to cling to her for guidance - but Clarke had a feeling this wasn’t a ghost that was bothering Lexa. 

 

“Uh, everything okay?” Clarke asked. She’d only taken her eyes off Lexa for a second to look at the menu. 

 

Lexa shook her head slightly, blinking down once, before shooting Clarke a smile that Clarke could tell was forced. “Nothing. You just reminded me of someone..”

 

“Oh.” Clarke didn’t know what to say. It was obvious to her that she didn’t trigger a pleasant memory otherwise Lexa wouldn’t have looked like  _ that.  _

 

“So, there is something I’ve been dying to know and you have to tell me,” Clarke stated suddenly, flipping the mood one hundred eighty degrees as she threw on a brilliant smile. She watched as Lexa relaxed minisculely in her seat before nodding, a bit of color returning to her visage and Clarke knew she made the right choice in switching topics. 

 

“What is it? I will try my best to answer you, if I can,” said Lexa. 

 

Clarke leaned in as if she were about to spill the biggest tea of the century. “So...how did you manage to snag a war elephant?”

  
  
  


* * *

 

Ten minutes into their not date, the door chimed, signaling another customer. Clarke wondered who else in this camp was crazy enough to crave a sandwich this badly at five in the morning. 

 

Turned out, it was Luna. 

 

“Wassup, Niylah!” 

 

“Good morning, Centurion. I’ll have the usual out in a few,” Niylah greeted. 

 

“Thank you, you’re a lifesaver!” Luna called out before whirling around to face Clarke and Lexa, a scandalous look on her face. Despite not having been doing anything, Clarke felt like she’d been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to. 

 

“Why, good morning,” Luna greeted, surprised at seeing the two of them inside the cafe. She pulled up an empty chair to their table and sat down without waiting for an invitation. 

 

“I’m guessing you’re getting some food in ya stomachs before the big senate meeting later?” Luna asked the two of them. “Smart. You’ll want some sustenance in you before you’re forced to listen to the Centurions fight and argue over each other.”

 

“What’s a Senate meeting like anyway?” Clarke asked, realizing she was heading into this practically blind, and despite the fact that Clarke was fine with winging it some of the time, Clarke liked to be prepared. “Who’s coming? What should I expect?”

 

Luna gestured for Lexa to explain, considering she was the praetor and all. 

 

“The Senate is made of the twelve Centurions and the praetor for a total of thirteen people. We oversee important matters regarding the Camp. It’s modeled after the Roman Republic,” explained Lexa. “Even though I am the praetor and hold the highest position, I technically cannot act on big matters without the Senate’s approval to prevent tyranny. And this-” Lexa gestured at Clarke and herself, “alliance is a huge matter.”

 

“Also, Lexa is required by Roman law to consult the Senate before going to war,” said Luna. Lexa nodded grimly. The previously light hearted atmosphere quickly turned into something a lot heavier as the topic switched. 

 

“More will be explained at the meeting,” said Lexa, looking into Clarke’s eyes. “But yes, we are going to war and we need your help.”

 

“Against the Mountain,” said Clarke, feeling herself sit up straighter in her chair. She’d just finished fighting in a war last summer and now here she was getting involved in another war. She fidgeted with the bracelet on her wrist. “My camp director mentioned something about that.”

 

“What do you know about the Mountain?” Lexa asked Clarke, her eyes critical. Any previous traces of softness on her face or in her eyes were replaced by hard lines and a calculating stare. 

 

Clarke shrugged, reeling from the difference in personas Lexa presented her. “Not much. Just what Bellamy knew and reported, honestly.”

 

Lexa narrowed her eyes. “I never did ask why they sent you instead of Bellamy. Or why they never sent you before instead of Bellamy, considering you and your friends seem much more competent than his ever did.” She paused, considering Clarke with furrowed eyebrows. “I even visited Camp Ark last year during that diplomatic trip, but I don’t recall meeting you or your friends.”

 

“Me neither,” said Luna. 

 

“No,” Clarke swallowed. “You wouldn’t have seen me or my friends. We were...busy.” Flashes of a small home in Wisconsin invaded her mind, a woman that looked just like Finn, her descent into a crazed fit, the cold sting and pang of emptiness from the River of Styx, Achilles’s haunting voice telling her to turn away, Finn’s cold smirk, Finn, Finn, Finn. 

 

“Clarke? Clarke!” 

 

Clarke blinked rapidly. Both Lexa and Luna were looking at her, the former more curious, while the latter looked more concerned. 

 

“Sorry,” Clarke shook her head. She hadn’t thought about that stuff in months now. The nightmares had stopped just two months ago. She blinked the images back into the mental boxes she’d created for them and shoved them as deep down as they’ll go. 

 

“I had something I needed to do in order to stand a chance against Kronos so I was away for a while. Raven and Octavia were with me. We were gone for a week and you happened to just miss us. And the summers before that, we were out on quests so Bellamy and his team were the only ones available.”

 

Lexa nodded slowly, accepting the answer though she still looked at Clarke as if she were a puzzle to figure out. 

 

“So what do you know about the Mountain then?” Lexa asked. 

 

Clarke shook her head slowly. “Only that they’ve been a thorn in your side for the longest time.”

 

“That’s an understatement,” Lexa muttered darkly. “They’ve been a plague on our land for hundreds of years. Any legionnaire that ventured too near to the Mountain would disappear and never come back. Whoever the Mountain men are, they capture our legionnaires, and then send them back to us, crazed, delusional, and practically inhumane.”

 

Clarke furrowed her eyebrows at the description. “What do you mean?”

 

Luna glanced at the watch on her wrist. “We need to go. Meeting starts in five. And the praetor really shouldn’t be late.” She turned to Clarke. “You’ll find out more at the meeting. You ready?”

 

Clarke gulped. She looked to Lexa for reassurance who nodded her head slightly showing her support. Clarke nodded back. “Let’s go.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	8. The Roman Senate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A disastrous Senate meeting.  
> Titus is introduced. He is a prick.  
> And Clexa talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Years! Here's to a prosperous and happy 2020!

The Senate Forum was an open area, marked off by four walls which only consisted of six long white marble columns. There was a single long rectangular marble table in the middle and fourteen matching chairs. It was all out in the open with no roof and Clarke briefly wondered what the Romans did when it rained or snowed. 

 

Then she remembered they were in northern California where it rarely ever rained, let alone snowed.

 

By the time, Clarke, Lexa, and Luna could see the Forum, all of the Centurions were already present, including Anya, Gustus, Indra, Uzac and a few others Clarke recognized but forgot their names.

 

Her friends had yet to arrive.

 

Clarke quickly took a quick sweep of everyone around the table from a distance. These were Lexa’s closest advisors and the Camp’s leaders. These were the people she was going to be working with indefinitely for the next few weeks. Clarke frowned as she realized something.  

 

“I thought you said the Senate was made up of thirteen people,” Clarke leaned over to whisper to Lexa as they approached. Twelve Centurions and the Praetor, Clarke recalled Lexa saying.  “Why are there fourteen people here then?”

 

“Oh, no.” From beside Clarke, Luna muffled a groan, her face distorting just the slightest in displeasure. “Titus is here.”

 

“Who’s Titus?” Clarke asked. The name didn’t ring a bell.

 

Lexa sighed wearily on the other side of Clarke. “Titus, the one at the very end of the table over there, is the camp Augur.”

 

Clarke looked over to the boy Lexa pointed out. He was a rather scrawny boy with a wide forehead, long ears, and a pointy nose that reminded Clarke of a vulture. He didn’t look like your typical Roman demigod and Clarke had a hard time imagining him swinging a sword.

 

“He’s in charge of interpreting prophecies from the gods,” explained Lexa dryly. “He technically can’t vote, but because of his position as Augur, he has the right to attend the Senate meetings since he is supposed to speak for the gods. If the Praetor is the head of all political decisions, then the Augur is like the head religious figure, I suppose.”

 

Lexa’s jaw was slightly clenched as she spoke. She approached the Forum with weariness in her steps. If he was here, then this meeting was not about to go as smoothly as Lexa hoped it would. Titus was a meddler, often mixing in his own agenda and messing with Lexa’s.

 

“He’s a douchebag,” Luna cut in, eyeing the boy with distaste. “He’s a legacy of Apollo and unfortunately, the only one in this camp gifted with prophetic sight. You would think that out of over two hundred demigods to choose from we’d have better odds, but alas.” Luna sighed, clearly not a huge fan of Titus. Luna leaned into Clarke and placed a hand on her shoulder - an action that caught Lexa’s attention -  and whispered, “He was also very outspoken about his distrust in the Greeks and his disapproval of this alliance so watch your back around him, Clarke.”

 

Clarke nodded slightly, taking in the advice as she glanced over at Titus only to see his eyes already locked onto her, like a predator observing its prey before going in for the kill. 

 

It didn’t faze Clarke. She’d face scarier things than an underweight teenager in her life, but she made a mental note to keep an eye out for him. Something about the boy didn’t sit right with her either. And if both Luna and Lexa were wary of him, then that’s two more good reasons for Clarke to watch out for him. 

 

“Don’t mind him too much,” Lexa told her with a small frown and Clarke could feel Lexa’s breath hitting her ear from their proximity. It was making it just a tad bit difficult to concentrate. “He’s harmless. Mostly. And I’m sure he just wants what’s best for the Legion.”

 

Next to her, Luna rolled her eyes as if she couldn’t believe that Lexa was defending the guy.

 

“You guys don’t have an Oracle?” Clarke asked instead. The idea of an Augur was foreign to her.

 

“An Oracle?” Lexa asked, shooting Clarke a confused look.

 

“I have a mortal best friend,” Clarke explained in whispers. They were almost at the table now, so she lowered her voice. “His name is Wells. He’s blessed with sight by Apollo. Whenever we go on a quest, he just sort of gets possessed by the Oracle of Delphi and spouts out a prophecy. It’s quite helpful actually.”

 

Lexa furrowed her eyebrows into a look of concentration at Clarke’s words. Clarke couldn’t help but find it adorable.

 

“No,” said Lexa, giving Clarke another strange look. “We don’t have an Oracle. Whenever we need a prophecy, we send Titus to consult the Auguries and he comes back with a prophecy. He is very adept at his job,” said Lexa with a slight frown.

 

“How does that even work?” Clarke asked curiously.

 

“Not a clue,” muttered Lexa. The slight frustration in her tone gave away the fact that she’d obviously wondered the same thing many times in the past.

 

 “Just don’t let him near your teddy bears,” Luna muttered into Clarke’s ear as she walked past them to take her seat in between Anya and Indra. “He’ll use them as sacrifices to the gods.”

 

“Um, okay?” Clarke didn’t know what to make of Luna’s warnings. She also didn’t bring any stuffed animals with her to Camp Polis. (She’d outgrown them back in elementary school). Clarke tried imagining Titus standing over a teddy bear with a knife, its innards spilled everywhere, and praying to the gods. She couldn’t decide if the image was more hilarious or terrifying. She definitely preferred the Oracle much more.

 

Clarke stopped by the table as Lexa took her seat at the head of the table, right next to Titus and Anya. She did a quick survey of the table. There were no more seats. Clarke could feel the awkwardness of remaining the only person still standing creep into her body, but she refused to let it show. Lexa frowned at the sight.

 

“Where are the extra seats I asked to be brought up here?” Lexa asked, displeased. “Was I somehow unclear when I said that the Greeks would be joining us today?” Her eyes flashed warningly. There was a moment of silence as all of the Centurions looked thoroughly chastised.

 

“Forgive me,” Titus sneered, taking in Clarke’s presence with judging eyes. “I had not expected them to wake up in time,” he paused. “-given the extent of their injuries from last night, so I had them removed. I see at least _one_ of them managed to get out of bed on time today.” His eyes bore into Clarke’s. “Consider me surprised. I had heard so much about the infamous Greek lax attitude.”

 

Lexa frowned as she realized Titus was already stirring up trouble and the meeting hadn’t even formally begun yet.

 

Clarke raised a challenging eyebrow in Titus’s direction. He didn’t scare her. And she could see right through his bullshit. “I don’t mind standing,” she said. It actually gave her more leeway to be intimidating if she were the only one standing at a table full of people sitting. However, she also didn’t want to step on Lexa’s toes.

 

“Nonsense,” Lexa stated firmly. She would not let Clarke stand uncomfortably for the length of this discussion. Only gods knew how long these Senate meetings tended to last. “Go,” she nodded at Gustus. “Fetch the chairs.”

 

“All three?” Gustus asked, looking between Lexa, Clarke, and Titus with uncertain eyes. “Or just one?”

 

“Perhaps just one,” said Titus.

 

“My friends are coming,” Clarke stated with her chin up, refusing to avert her eyes from Titus.

 

“They’re late,” Titus retorted. “We do not wait for latecomers.”

 

“Go,” Lexa interrupted. “Fetch three chairs,” she told Gustus. She glanced at Clarke briefly, sending her a silent apology. “We’ll start the meeting as soon as the chairs get here, whether that is with or without the rest of the Greeks.”

 

It was a compromise and Clarke recognized it as one. She sent Lexa a grateful nod. 

 

Titus sank back in his seat, not completely satisfied but subdued for now. Clarke bit back a sigh as Gustus went to go carry out Lexa’s orders. She kept herself from shaking her leg in anxiety as she waited for Raven and Octavia to show up. 

 

It definitely didn’t help that the Centurions were all watching her carefully out of the corners of their eyes. Most of them regarded her with a cold indifference. Others however looked at Clarke as if she were seconds from blowing up the camp. She couldn’t exactly blame them either. 

 

Clarke tried to imagine how she would feel if the Romans all of a sudden came to Camp Ark and completely showed them up in Capture the Flag. She’d probably be a little bit pissed too. 

 

 _‘One step forward, two steps back,’_ Clarke thought grimly. 

 

This was not how she’d hoped for the meeting to start. Clarke glanced to her right and took in Titus’s smug expression. Luna was right. She would have to keep her guard up around him. Clarke took another sweep around the table.

 

 _‘How many of them are allies? How many of them are not?’_ she wondered, taking in each of the Centurions.

She knew she could count on Lexa and Luna. Lexa was the one who initiated the alliance in the first place and Luna had been the most open in welcoming them to camp since they got here.

 

Anya, Clarke could tell, only begrudgingly accepted their presence because of her loyalty to Lexa. Still, that was enough for Clarke. And even though Lincoln wasn’t present at the moment, Clarke had a feeling they could count on him too. The rest however…

 

_‘Gods Kane, this is a much more difficult quest than I’d anticipated. I wonder if Bellamy had to go through the same things when he was here or if all the politics of the Roman society just completely flew over his head.’_

Clarke refocused. Gustus and Indra were fiercely loyal to Lexa from what Clarke could gather. That said however, they also seemed a bit more reluctant than Anya to accept the alliance. For some reason, Clarke got the feeling that Gustus in particular did not like her very much.

 

Uzac, the Centurion of the Twelfth Cohort was also definitely not an ally. However, he was also a pushover. Clarke had a feeling he was the type to pick the easier side, the winning side. If necessary, Clarke could always find ways to stronghold him to her advantage.

 

 _‘If it had to come down to that,’_ Clarke thought solemnly. She’d rather not have to threaten any of the Centurions. Fear made for a flimsy alliance.  

 

And Titus, well, Clarke could already tell Titus was going to be a thorn in her side for the rest of her time here. Though in what way, Clarke couldn’t exactly grasp yet.

 

Unfortunately, the rest of the Centurions were all still a mystery to Clarke. The odds were, once again, not in Clarke’s favor.

 

 _‘Or Lexa’s,’_ Clarke realized as her eyes automatically drifted over to the praetor’s seat. This entire alliance was Lexa’s idea. If it failed, it could cost Lexa her entire praetorship. But if it worked…

 

The sound of hurried feet against marble jolted Clarke from her thoughts. She looked up to see Raven and Octavia sprinting for the forum, making it just in time before Gustus arrived with the chairs. Though their appearances were disheveled as if they’d just jumped out of bed – which Clarke had no doubt was true – they’d actually made it in time.

 

“It seems the Greeks made it _this_ time,” Titus sneered, eyeing the three of them with heavy disapproval in his eyes. “Barely.”

 

“Woo,” Raven gasped, collapsing over her knees. “Alright, we’re here. Let’s get this party started.” Her comment earned her a few scornful looks. 

 

Clarke subtly shook her head at her friend’s behavior before taking her seat directly across the table from Lexa. Octavia and Raven shuffled over, planting themselves into the seats next to hers.

 

“Sorry,” Octavia muttered to her under her breath. “We got lost on the way here. All of their signs are in Latin and you know how bad Raven’s dyslexia gets even with Greek.”

 

“Hey,” Raven bit back. “Like you were any help.”

 

Lexa cleared her throat from across the table, interrupting their squabble, and Clarke immediately averted her eyes to hers, giving Lexa her full attention. She found green eyes already looking at her.

“Now that we’re all here,” Lexa began, eyes scanning the Centurions once. “Let us begin the Senate meeting.” And with the early splashes of sunlight lighting the Forum from the east, the Senate meeting commenced.

 

As soon as Lexa had finished speaking, Titus rose from his seat and cleared his throat. From the corner of her eyes, Clarke saw Luna roll her eyes in exasperation. Even Anya looked like she’d rather be covered in feathers again than listen to him speak. Lexa gestured for him to speak with a barely concealed pained expression. Clarke could tell she was a little miffed that she was being interrupted already.

 

Clarke took a breath as she prepared herself. She had a feeling that whatever Titus had to say, it wouldn’t be anything good for the Greeks. 

 

“ _Heda_ , I stand by my initial position and advise you to rethink your decision to ally the Twelfth Legion with the Greeks,” Titus said pointedly, glaring directly at Clarke without any restraints. “They are our enemies. Not our friends, nor our allies. They cannot be trusted.”

 

 _‘So far so typical,’_ thought Clarke wryly. 

 

“Titus,” Lexa tried to interrupt with a stern frown, but Titus was not done.

 

He suddenly whirled around and pointed a bony finger in Clarke’s direction. Clarke met him head on with a dry look. _‘Do you worst,’_ she mentally challenged him. 

 

Titus fumed. “ _Especially_ this one. She _reeks_ of _death_. She’s bad luck! Nothing good will come to the legion if we associate ourselves with her. There is a reason there hasn’t been a child of Pluto in over hundreds of years. The last time there was a child of Pluto at Camp Polis, the legion was almost wiped out!”

 

Quiet murmurs broke out amongst the Centurions at Titus’s heated speech and Clarke fought back a sigh. Once again, she really should’ve seen this coming. 

 

Clarke made a face as she subtly sniffed herself. “I do not stink of death,” she muttered under her breath. “Death doesn’t even have a scent. I would know.”

 

“Wow,” Octavia muttered back dryly. “Not even a minute in and we’re already being insulted. Which god was it that had the bright idea of making the two camps work together again?”

 

“Hera, your favorite goddess,” Clarke answered her sarcastically. Octavia’s expression darkened. 

 

“Figured it would be her to come up with such a hopeless idea,” muttered Octavia. “Stupid cow-faced goddess.” 

 

Clarke waited for the skies to darken and for lightning to smite Octavia into smithereens. Nothing happened. Perhaps Hera was in a forgiving mood today. 

 

“Think of this like an early morning soap opera,” said Raven with fake dry cheer. “So much drama.”

 

“I agree with Titus,” a Centurion whose name Clarke did not know stood up. He turned to glare at Clarke. “The Greeks are tricky. They are honorless. Just look at those stunts they pulled yesterday. That is not how a legionnaire fights. It is not Roman!”

 

“I’ll show you honor,” Octavia muttered under her breath, quick to anger. She gripped the handle of her sword and Clarke had to grab her hand in an iron-like grasp in order to stop her from doing anything stupid or drastic. 

 

One by one, each of the Centurions began voicing their opinions against the alliance, their voices clashing against each other and overpowering others. To Clarke’s surprise, there were some Centurions that came to their defense. Clarke mentally kept a list of each Centurion and their opinions. 

 

Anya, Luna, Indra, and Gustus, Clarke noticed, remained quiet, not picking a side.

 

“So are we just going to sit here and let them insult us, or are we going to retaliate?” Raven asked sassily. “Because I can think of like ten different insults for chicken boy over there,” she said gesturing to Titus as she shot him a glare.

 

“I can think of twelve,” Octavia stated darkly.

 

“Thirteen,” Raven shot back competitively. 

 

“No, stay calm,” said Clarke, shooting both of them a look. “There’s no point in us saying anything. It’ll only make things worse. We’ll just have to wait it out.” She sighed as she sunk into her chair, leaning back to watch the argument break out.

 

The Centurions weren’t even paying them any attention anymore. They were just yelling at each other. She glanced at Titus who was looking way too smug about the chaos he’d inspired. “Trust me, I want to wipe that grin off his face just as much as you do,” Clarke stated darkly. 

 

Clarke turned her attention away from the chaos to the figure sitting at the head of the table. Lexa too had yet to make a move and that was the main reason Clarke was content to just watch things unfold. She wanted to see how Lexa would handle this. How much control of her Senate did Lexa really have? 

 

The girl in question merely sat in her chair and watched the Centurions bicker and yell over each other with blank eyes as she tapped her fingers impatiently on the table, waiting. Finally, her patience ran thin.

 

“Enough!”

 

The forum silenced immediately and the Centurions settled into their seats, reluctantly but also obediently.

 

Clarke couldn’t help but smirk in awe of Lexa’s power.  

 

Lexa did not look happy. There was a hard set to her jaw and steel in her eyes that made her look very reminiscent of a pissed off Athena – the one goddess that Clarke would hate to make an enemy out of.

 

 _‘Lexa would make a terrifying enemy,’_ Clarke thought absentmindedly, as a rush of respect surged forth from her chest for the girl. 

 

And Clarke might’ve been imagining things, but she swore she could make out the faint scent of ozone in the air.

 

“We have discussed this before,” said Lexa sternly, a hint of an edge to her tone. “We took a vote and the Senate voted yes to the alliance, if I recall correctly,” Lexa stated firmly, daring anyone to refute her claim.

 

No one did. Titus’s scowl deepened at the reminder of his inability to officially vote.

 

“The Greeks do not fight like us,” Lexa stated, her eyes briefly glancing at Clarke’s before returning back to the Senate. “But that is the point. We’ve fought the Mountain for hundreds of years with only repeated losses to show for it,” said Lexa heatedly. “No more.”

 

She turned to Clarke, who sent a small nod in Lexa’s direction for reassurance. They were in this together. “With the Greeks, we can come up with new ways to defeat the Mountain once and for all.”

 

Lexa then turned to Titus. “The gods have willed for our two camps to work together. That is what we’re doing. As Augur, I’m sure you understand your duty to carry out the gods will?” Lexa asked pointedly.

 

“I know what the gods have said,” said Titus, bowing his head in what looked like mock respect. “But they did not say we must invite them into our _homes_. Besides, what can they even offer us in our war against the Mountain?” His eyes flashed dangerously as they landed on Clarke.

 

“It seemed we had plenty to offer yesterday,” stated Clarke through clenched teeth, refusing to back down from Titus. “I doubt I have to remind some of you that.” 

 

Clarke glanced pointedly at one of the Centurions who had his arm in a sling. She had a vague memory of bashing him into the wall with Hannibal. The Centurion averted his gaze sheepishly. It made Clarke want to smile in satisfaction.

 

Clarke then turned to look back at Titus. “I have to admit though, I don’t recall seeing you out there on the field yesterday.”

 

“That’s because he wasn’t,” Luna assisted with a poorly hidden mischievous grin, ignoring the scowl Titus shot in her direction. “Titus prefers to watch from the safety of the sidelines.”

 

“I’m the Augur,” Titus protested. “If anything were to happen to me, Camp Polis would have no one to communicate with the gods.”

 

“Perhaps you’d like a personal demonstration then?” Octavia grinned coldly. “Of what exactly we have to offer.”

 

Titus shot her an unimpressed look. “Is that a threat, _Graecus_?”

 

“Oh, sit your ass down, Titus,” Anya mumbled, finally fed up. “Like you’d be able to take her on in a one on one fight,” said Anya, giving Octavia an appraising look. 

 

She might not like the Greeks very much, but as a daughter of Bellona, she knew how to spot a decent warrior when she saw one. The fact that Octavia had stood up against her, Gustus, and Indra with only Lincoln at her side, who was not a very skilled swordsmen, earned her Anya’s begrudging respect. “She’d have you on your ass begging for your life in five seconds flat.”

 

Clarke saw several Centurions bite back a smile at Anya’s sass. Even Lexa seemed like she was struggling to keep her expression neutral. Luna, meanwhile, was not even trying to hide her wide grin of amusement. She met Clarke’s eyes from across the table and shot her a discreet wink.

 

Clarke, for one, was starting to warm up to Anya.

 

And Anya wasn’t even done yet.

 

“The whole point of the meeting _was_ to discuss what the Greeks can offer us, before you hijacked it and moved it off topic. So you can either shut up and let it proceed or you can leave since you aren’t even a Senator anyways. Don’t you have some stuffed animals that need to be gutted or something?” Anya asked snarkily.

 

Titus turned a deep shade of red as he plopped himself back down onto his chair in a fit of anger, almost like a child that was refused his favorite toy. “They’re necessary for Auguries. You wouldn’t understand anything,” he mumbled under his breath.

 

“Bite me,” Anya retorted dryly. Titus stayed mum, properly chastised.

 

Raven bit back a chuckle. “I like her,” she purred, eyeing Anya appreciatively. “I really like her.”

 

“Keep it in your pants, Rae,” Octavia teased quietly. Raven merely rolled her eyes at the gibe. 

 

Lexa gave Anya a small look of appreciation before addressing the Senate once more. “Now onto the main matters at hand,” her voice rang out authoritatively. She pulled up a holographic map of the Mountain for everyone to see which had Raven _oohing_ at the piece of technology.

 

“The Mountain has been our enemy for as long as the camp’s history. For centuries, Mountain Men have captured, _killed,_ and mutilated our Roman legionnaires.” Lexa’s voice lowered as she said her next statement. “Many praetors in the past have tried to defeat the Mountain.” She paused, meeting Clarke’s eyes. “They have all failed.”

 

The seriousness of the situation finally hit Clarke. The pressure and burden that Lexa carried alone on her shoulders – Clarke could sympathize with how Lexa must’ve felt on a day to day basis, how she was forced to shoulder it all as Praetor. 

 

Clarke knew what it was like to have so many people depend on you like this. She felt a rush of empathy for this girl she barely knew, yet somehow, felt a connection to.

 

“Despite our long history with the Mountain,” Lexa continued her explanation, her eyes dark and grim. “Little is known about the people who reside inside the Mountain, only that for some reason, they cannot be subjected to the air outside and are forced to stay confided to inside the Mountain,” said Lexa. “The only time they venture outside, is when they’re wearing these special suits that protect them from outside air. Once they are outside, they capture our campers and turn them into Reapers.”

 

Lexa took a small breath. Her voice grew tight as she continued. “The Mountain Men take our legionnaires and turn them into savages that do their bidding. These Reapers have no semblance of thought or resemblance of the people they used to be. They are dangerous, savage, and brutal.”

 

“So like zombies,” Raven hummed absentmindedly. “That’s cool.”

 

Clarke elbowed her under the table as several nasty glares were shot their way. She knew Raven meant no harm, that the girl probably didn’t even mean to say that last comment out loud, but now was not a good time for Raven’s signature snark.

 

“Not cool,” Raven corrected immediately as if waking up from a trance after realizing what she just said. “Not cool at all. Nothing cool about being turned into brainless killer savages.” Octavia kneed her under the table to get her to stop talking, but the damage was done. 

 

“There is _nothing_ cool about watching your loved ones get dragged away by cannibalistic savages, thinking you’ll never see them again only for them to return as one of them, forcing you to impale them with _your own hands_ through the chest with your _gladius_ because even death is more forgiving at that point,” Anya said darkly, eyes flashing through so many emotions so quickly Clarke had trouble keeping up.  She did learn one thing though — don’t cross Anya.

 

Raven paled and sunk into her seat at the glare Anya directed at her. “Sorry,” she winced, offering a weak apology. Anya continued to glare at her but offered no more words. Octavia patted Raven’s knee softly, before quickly coming up with a distraction.

 

“Hey Clarke, doesn’t that area look familiar?” Octavia asked, pointing at the map of the Mountain.

 

Clarke bit back a sigh of relief, quickly sending a mental thank you to Octavia for getting them out of a potentially tense situation before eyeing the map and its geological features. 

 

“Kind of?” It did look vaguely familiar but not entirely. “Where is the Mountain exactly?” she asked, searching for green eyes. She recognized that it was in California, but that was it.

 

“It’s located on Mount Weather,” answered Lexa, completely focused on Clarke as if every word the blonde spoke was important.

 

“Is that near Mount Orthys?”

 

Lexa raised an eyebrow in mild surprise at Clarke’s question before understanding crossed her features. She nodded. “It is.” A pause. “I forgot that you fought in the Titan War,” said Lexa. “Mount Orthys is to the north of Mount Weather and was the base camp for the Titan army.”

 

Raven made a face. “Isn’t that where you and Octavia had to hold up the sky?” she asked Clarke, having recovered from her blunder. “When Atlas plotted to kidnap Artemis and we had to save her?”

 

“Yeah it is,” said Octavia, rubbing her arms as if the pain of holding up the weight of the sky for three days still lingered. “And then of course, Finn became Kronos and we thought he fell to his death but the bitch survived.”

 

Clarke grimaced. These weren’t exactly pleasant memories. “I remember,” she muttered. Too well on some days.

 

“Whatever did happen to their base camp and the rest of their army?” Octavia wondered out loud. “I sort of just assumed it fell when Kronos was defeated.”

 

“Lexa led an attack on Mount Orthys last summer and toppled Kronos’s throne,” Luna answered. “The same time Kronos was trying to take over Olympus.”

 

“Huh,” Clarke grinned fondly at Lexa. “So even last summer, we were working together against a common enemy.”

 

Lexa looked at Clarke, an unreadable expression on her face, before matching Clarke’s grin with a knowing gaze. “I guess so.”

 

Funny, how Fate had brought them together at last.

 

“What’s the red circle surrounding the Mountain?” Clarke asked, reverting her attention back to the map.

 

“My gods, the Greeks are clueless about everything,” groaned Titus, speaking up for the first time since being chastised by Anya. “This would be faster if we’d just-”

 

“Faster?” Luna interrupted with a slight scoff. “We’ve fought the Mountain for hundreds of years. What’s a few more hours?” She gave him a sharp look. “Unless you have a brilliant idea that could help us take down the Mountain. Then please, the floor is all yours.”

 

Unable to come up with a good response, Titus huffed and sat back down pouting.

 

“You’d think he’d learn by now to keep his mouth shut,” Octavia commented quietly. It wasn’t quiet enough apparently, as Titus shot her a dark look from across the table.

 

“As I was saying,” said Lexa, ignoring Titus completely. The area outlined in red is the danger zone,” said Lexa, answering Clarke’s question. “The Mountain Men release an acidic fog as a defense mechanism so we can’t get too close to it else we’d literally burn up alive. That is also about as far out as the Reapers will venture. Legionnaires who have wandered too close to the danger zone in the past during quests, either on purpose or by accident, have disappeared.”

 

“I have a question,” Raven asked, raising her hand as if she were in elementary school. Lexa raised an eyebrow as she nodded for her to speak.

 

“You said the Mountain Men can’t tolerate the air and need to wear hazmat suits or whatever,” said Octavia. “So why can’t you just tear up their suits when they come out?”

 

“It’s not that easy,” Indra shot back. “These Mountain Men are dangerous. They have special powers. Most of the time, we can’t even get close to them to get at their suits.”

 

“Can’t Lexa shoot lightning?” Raven pointed out. “And there are always arrows, no?”

 

“Not all children of Jupiter can shoot lightning, you know,” Lexa stated giving Raven a look before deflating slightly. “But yes, I can shoot lightning.”

 

 “It’s not that simple though,” Lexa reiterated, looking a bit frustrated. “These Mountain Men, some of them have powers like a god. They’re dangerous.”

 

“Powers like a god,” Clarke repeated with a frown. “Are they demigods?”

 

Lexa shook her head. “We’ve considered that possibility, but no. It doesn’t make sense for them to be demigods. And no, before you ask, they aren’t Titans either. Or gods. We’re pretty sure.”

 

“Have you asked the gods about any of this?” asked Clarke. “What did they say?” 

 

Lexa furrowed her eyebrows as if she was having trouble comprehending Clarke’s question. “The gods only speak to us when they want to. And even then, it’s always through the Auguries, never in person.”

 

In the background, Titus let out a pretentious self-entitled humph. 

 

“Wait,” Clarke balked. Lexa and Luna had explained to her what an Augur was earlier but she had no idea that the Augur was the _only_ way of communication between the Roman demigods and the Roman gods. 

 

That explained Titus’s importance a bit more.

 

“So you’ve never talked directly to a god before?” Clarke asked as Raven and Octavia exchanged surprised glances. 

 

“The gods do not have the time to engage in direct communication,” said Lexa, eyeing Clarke’s expression of bewilderment. Clarke noticed she avoided answering the question directly. 

 

“Are you saying that the gods have visited you before?” Titus huffed indignantly, finding the idea that the gods would appear before Clarke of all people ridiculous. 

 

“Yeah,” said Clarke, still reeling from the fact that it wasn’t commonplace for them to see a god. “They sort of just pop up and visit whenever,” she said, recalling the many times she ran into Hermes, Apollo, Aphrodite, Ares, or Hephaestus during a quest. Or more like they sought her out. 

 

“Even when they’re unwelcome,” commented Octavia, earning them several confused scandalous looks. 

 

“I also visit my dad in the Underworld at least once a month,” Clarke added but quickly realized it might’ve been better not to have said anything. She’d forgotten how the Romans viewed the Underworld and was rewarded with several ostracized looks for her comment.

 

Titus glowered at her. “Perhaps the _Greek_ gods are nosy and meddlesome but the Roman gods are different. They. Know. _Better_.”

 

Clarke saw Lexa open her mouth to reprimand him for his comment, but Clarke beat her to it. 

 

Now Clarke wasn’t the biggest fan of the gods -- she was at odds with a few of them herself, namely Ares, but she had a bone to pick with them on how they ran certain things. So Clarke knew that they weren’t perfect, but that didn’t stop her from seeing red. 

 

“Watch what you say, _Roman_ ,” Clarke warned, surprising even herself with the amount of venom in her tone. She was standing now, towering over everyone else even with her short stature. She was done letting Titus just walk all over them. “You insult our gods? You do know we have the same gods, right?”

 

Titus shot her a scornful degrading look, but Clarke wasn’t done. 

 

“You call yourself Augur, yet you don’t seem to understand the gods at all,” Clarke declared heatedly. “Perhaps I should take your place as Augur, seeing that you clearly can’t keep to their words.” Clarke didn’t actually have any desire to be Augur, but she knew how to use her words to hit where it would hurt the most. 

 

Titus turned red with resentment. Clarke had attacked the source of his important status in the Legion. Yet he seemed unable to move or speak. Clarke wondered what was suddenly wrong with the guy. He looked like he was choking on air. 

 

A gentle touch on her elbow brought Clarke back to the rest of the world and it was only then Clarke realized she had tunnel visioned. 

  
“Chill,” Octavia told her quietly. She shot a discreet glance to their surroundings and Clarke followed her gaze. Everyone else had stopped moving and were all staring at her, some with pale faces and a hint of fear in their eyes. 

 

“Or don’t chill,” said Raven with a sheepish smile. “It’s getting a bit cold.” She rubbed her hands up and down her bare arms to emphasize her point.

 

Clarke realized with a jolt of fear that she could see Raven’s breath in the air even though it was summer and immediately reeled in her powers. The temperature rose back to normal and Clarke watched as the small bit of frost that had formed on the table in front of her melt away leaving a little puddle. 

 

 _‘Shit,’_ Clarke cursed mentally. She quickly surveyed the damage. 

 

The Centurions blinked back to life as if waking up from a trance. They looked at each other in confusion,  still trying to comprehend what’d just happened and slowly gathered themselves back together. 

 

Clarke could feel Lexa’s probing eyes on her but she didn’t feel like meeting her gaze at the moment. Instead her eyes shifted to Anya and found the girl studying her with distrust shining in her eyes. Even Luna was analyzing her. 

 

She cleared her throat. “Have you seen any of these Men without their suits on?” she asked Lexa, finally meeting scrutinizing green eyes. “That could clue us in on their identity.” She knew it was a weak attempt at a diversion but she hoped Lexa would take it. 

 

For a second, Lexa didn’t answer. She just sat there staring at Clarke. Clarke didn’t know where to look. Finally, Lexa seemed to take mercy on her. 

 

“The only ones who have are the ones who were captured. But no one ever escapes the Mountain. Once you’re captured, you’re done for. They’re either not alive anymore to tell us who the Mountain Men are or they have been turned into Reapers,” Lexa answered quietly.

 

 _‘Hundreds of years of war and they don’t even know who they’re fighting against,’_ Clarke thought to herself in mild surprise. It sounded like a doomed war. She needed more answers. There were too many unknowns. She turned to Lexa.  

 

“In order to get a better understanding of what we’re up against, we’re going to need a closer look,” Clarke stated. 

 

Lexa nodded as if she’d expected Clarke to say such a thing. Lexa addressed Anya. “How do you feel about leading a quick scouting mission?”

 

“Alone with the Greeks?” Anya scowled, shooting them a distasteful wary look. “You better pray to the gods I don’t accidentally skewer one of them.” She said that looking straight at Clarke. 

 

 _‘Fun,’_ Clarke sighed. The last thing she wanted was to make an enemy out of Anya. 

 

“I’ll like to see you try,” Octavia complained under her breath.

 

“You could take Lincoln with you,” Lexa offered, taking just the smallest glance in Octavia’s direction before averting her eyes back to Anya,

 

“Do I have a choice?” Anya grumbled, but she recognized an order when it was given.

 

“Unless there are any other volunteers here who want to go along,” said Lexa, scanning the table.

 

“I will join.” 

 

Immediately, Lexa regretted asking.

 

Clarke looked over the person who’d spoken, expecting Luna to have volunteered. She was not that lucky. Next to her, Octavia muttered a “You have got to be kidding me.”

 

Anya raised an eyebrow at the guy who’d stood up. “You?” she sneered, half laughing, half mocking. “Can you even ride a pegasus?”

 

Titus pulled his chin up indignantly. “I’ve never tried, but how hard can it be?” he huffed, obviously putting on airs. “I am still one fourth god, you know.”

 

Anya’s smile disappeared from her face as she realized Titus was being serious. She regarded him with suspicious eyes. “What are you up to now, Titus?” she spat out coldly. Clarke was surprised at her animosity. 

 

“Nothing,” said Titus, faux innocently. “I merely want to get to know our Greek friends here a little better.”

 

“Hmhmm, I’m sure that’s it,” muttered Anya dryly. It was clear she didn’t believe a word he said.

 

“Is there a problem?” Titus asked, looking at Clarke specifically. “Or are you going to go back on your words about our people working together?”

 

Clarke clenched her jaw but forced herself to keep her anger in check. Not a single cell in her body wanted to spend more time with Titus but he was right. She couldn’t back out. Besides, she could take him, right?

 

“No, no problem,” she bit out, forcing a fake smile onto her face. “We’ll love to have you with us as we go scout your most dangerous enemies. I’m more concerned about you, though,” said Clarke, putting as much fake concern into her voice as possible. “What happens if we get ambushed? Will you be okay? I hear you’re not too good with a sword. Or a bow.”

 

Titus smirked at her attempt at trying to rile him up. “Don’t worry about _me_ , _Graecus._ ”

 

Clarke resisted the urge to huff at his pretentiousness. She turned to look at Lexa who was watching Titus very closely.

 

Lexa trusted Titus as much as she could throw him. All of her instincts were screaming at her that this was a bad idea. Still, there was no way for Lexa to refuse him no matter how much she’d like to, not after she’d openly asked for volunteers and not after Clarke already agreed. With a reluctant heart, Lexa nodded her head. “Very well, you six will leave at noon.”

 

Titus was the first to stand and accept. “ _Sha, Heda,”_ he said with a slight bow and a smirk on his face.

 

Anya stood up after and also bowed slightly. _“Sha, Heda._ I’ll get Lincoln to ready the pegasi. _”_ She eyed Titus warily and Clarke was assured that if anything, Anya seemed to hate Titus more than she disapproved of them. 

 

Lexa nodded her approval. “It should be quick and simple. Avoid the danger zone if possible and if you happen to come across Reapers or Mountain Men,” said Lexa, looking straight at Clarke as if these words were for her only. “Run.”

 

Clarke let out a breath, feeling the pre-anxiety of a quest seep into her gut. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

* * *

 

“That Greek Barbie doll is dangerous,” Anya stated as soon as they were alone after the meeting. Lexa turned to look at her oldest friend. 

 

“I know,” sighed Lexa. Clarke was proving to be a valuable ally, but a dangerous one. She kept throwing Lexa for a loop and Lexa didn’t like not knowing what to expect every time Clarke was involved. It was like having to act out a play without seeing the script beforehand. Clarke kept Lexa on her toes, a feeling she hadn’t felt in years. 

 

“Whatever she pulled back there in the meeting with Titus, it wasn’t normal,” said Anya, sounding agitated. “I’ve never felt anything like it. It was-”

 

“Terrifying,” Lexa finished for her. Anya nodded. There was no other word to describe how’d she felt in the moment Clarke stood up to Titus. It was fear in its purest form and it made Lexa want to curl up into a trembling ball. 

 

Still, it hadn’t affected Lexa as much as it did to Anya. She’d seen the girl grip the edge of her seat until her knuckles turned white. Lexa had only felt the sting of terror, felt everything bad overtake her consciousness, for a split second before it was gone. It still shook her more than she’d like to admit, but it left just as quickly as it came.  

 

Lexa briefly wondered why that was. She noticed that Clarke’s two Greek friends also didn’t seem to be as shaken as her Centurions were. Was it a conscious decision?

 

“How would you know?” Lexa asked, her voice masking how offkiltered she’d felt by the sensation. “We have no idea what powers a Pluto child should have. What she did back there, doesn’t Pluto have a Helm of Darkness that instills fear in people?”

 

Anya regarded Lexa with dark eyes. “You know I’m not the biggest fan of Titus - in fact I hate him.”

 

Lexa nodded. She knew. 

 

“But Titus wasn’t wrong about one thing,” said Anya imploringly. She needed Lexa to understand. “The last time Camp Polis had a child of Pluto on its grounds…” She didn’t finish her statement. She didn’t need to. Lexa knew exactly what Anya was referring to. 

 

There was a legend once upon a time of a child of Pluto that came to Camp Polis. Not much else was known about this child except that during their stay here, more than half of the Legion was wiped out by some mysterious event and Camp Polis almost ceased to exist. Ever since then, there hadn’t been another child of Pluto to step foot into Camp Polis and the legend of _Wanheda,_ the Commander of Death, remained but a whispered myth. 

 

Clarke was not a child of Pluto but a child of Hades. Lexa didn’t know if there was a difference. She hoped there was, even if she didn’t particularly buy into superstitions. 

 

Lexa regarded Anya with fake amusement in her eyes. “Don’t tell me you believe in those stories. They’re just myths, Anya.” 

 

Anya scowled. “So were the gods until we found out our real bloodlines.”

 

Lexa couldn’t find a good rebuttal for that. She needed to talk to Clarke, to pick at her brain and understand what made her tick. It was like putting together a puzzle. Piece by piece, she’ll slowly get a better picture of who Clarke was and what she was capable of. Lexa had a feeling this puzzle would take her a long time to complete. 

 

“Keep an eye on her during the scouting mission,” Lexa requested. She would go herself, but she had Praetor duties that kept her from leaving Camp too often. 

 

“As if you have to ask,” Anya stated. She had her own questions about the daughter of Hades. 

 

In all her years as a demigod, Anya held the strong belief that Lexa was the strongest demigod to ever exist. When she was serious, Lexa could move mountains on her own. Anya had witnessed her strike down the Titan Army in a fury so unrelenting it could be compared to the worst storms the skies had to offer. No one stood a chance against Lexa the day they stormed Mount Orthys. 

 

Luna came a close second behind the daughter of Jupiter, but she lacked the willingness to take extreme measures that Lexa possessed, making her far less dangerous as an enemy. 

 

Clarke, also a child of the Big Three, undoubtedly had powers that other demigods like Anya could only dream about. And Anya suspected from what she’d seen of the girl so far that Clarke also possessed that extra bit of steel in her character. 

 

In that way, she was similar to Lexa. 

 

And that made her extremely dangerous. Anya only hoped Lexa knew that too. 

 

* * *

“So are all Senate meetings like that, or were we just lucky?” Clarke asked Lexa once they were alone in Lexa’s office. Gustus had come knocking at their bunker telling her that she’d been summoned by Lexa to debrief about the meeting.  

 

“Sometimes,” Lexa stated with a weary sigh, regarding Clarke with a guarded look. “There are worse ones, but there are also better ones.” She gestured for Clarke to sit in the chair across from her. Clarke sat down and waited for Lexa to tell her why called her here. 

 

“I feel like I should apologize for Titus’s behavior,” said Lexa with a small frown once Clarke was settled. Her eyes searched for Clarke’s.  

 

Clarke waved her off. “Don’t,” she insisted. “I sort of expected it. Besides, you have nothing to apologize for.”

 

“He may not look like much,” said Lexa, her tone warning. “But words are his weapons. And he uses them as ruthlessly and as skillfully as any legionnaire with a sword. I want you to be prepared. He is dangerous. Make no mistake of that.”

 

“I’ve always found Apollo children to be good with words, given their poetic inclinations,” Clarke joked. “Though Apollo himself gives horrid haikus.”

 

“Clarke.” Lexa spoke her name as if she couldn’t decide whether or not she was exasperated or charmed by Clarke’s humor.

 

Clarke grinned at Lexa before allowing herself to be more serious for a second. “Don’t worry. I’ve faced worse adversaries than Titus. I’ll make sure to keep my guard up.”

 

“Don’t underestimate him,” warned Lexa. “I don’t know what he’s planning,” she said frowning. “But I find it a bit uneasy that he volunteered himself for this scouting mission.” Lexa sighed, slouching in her chair and in that moment, Clarke couldn’t help but notice that she looked a lot more her age.

 

It was easy to forget, with the way Lexa carried herself and the way others addressed her, that Lexa was also only eighteen years old. She looked so small and tired in her big praetor chair. Clarke had never seen anyone look so young yet so old at the same time.

 

“I have a question,” Clarke spoke up. 

 

Lexa looked up lazily at her and Clarke took it as a cue to continue. 

 

“Have you…” She started only to change her mind. “Before, during the meeting, when I asked if you’ve ever seen a god before, you didn’t give me a straight answer.”

 

Lexa gave her a tight lipped smile. “So you caught that, huh? I figured you would. You’re quite observant, aren’t you?” Lexa looked away, afraid Clarke would be able to read her if she looked directly into those blue eyes. 

 

Clarke tried not to blush at the compliment. 

 

Lexa sighed. “Roman gods have different philosophies than their Greek counterparts,” explained Lexa. “They try not to meddle with their children’s lives. They saw that trait as one of the reasons for the downfall of the Greek civilization,” said Lexa carefully. Clarke knew she meant no offense. “So the only way we talk to the gods is through the Auguries.”

 

“But you’ve seen them,” said Clarke, sounding sure of herself. 

 

Lexa nodded stiffly. “I saw Juno when I was seven.” Her voice was slightly strained and Clarke had a feeling there was more to it. 

 

“That’s young,” Clarke stated with surprise. She didn’t even know she was a demigod until she was eleven. 

 

“I’d ran away from home,” shrugged Lexa as if it were no big deal, but Clarke could tell she was just putting on an act. Her shoulders were tense and her eyes were stormy. “Apparently, as a daughter of Jupiter, I smelled terrible to monsters.” 

 

Clarke smiled a bit in understanding. She’d gotten the same comment from a few monsters herself. The children of the Big Three apparently stunk worse than public restrooms. What a self-esteem booster to hear when she was eleven. 

 

“One day, I came home from elementary school to find my mother being ripped apart by a couple of Harpys who had smelled me on her,” revealed Lexa, her voice even and empty.  

 

Clarke fought back a gasp. Her chest constricted in sympathy towards the girl but she tried hard to keep the emotion off her face. She had a feeling Lexa wasn’t the type of person to appreciate her sympathy.

 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. She didn’t know what else to say. There were no words that could soothe the pain for Lexa or convey how Clarke felt. Lexa remained indifferent, her face carefully crafted into a blank expression but Clarke could still make out the pain in her eyes. 

 

 _‘It must’ve been horrible,’_ was all Clarke could think. _‘And Lexa was so young too.’_

 

Lexa hummed like she’d come to terms with it long ago but Clarke knew better. She knew just how devastating death could be and how long the effects of loss last. 

 

“I didn’t know what to do. I was helpless. I was _seven._ So I ran,” said Lexa, with a hint of spite. Clarke was a bit surprised with her willingness to open up to her. “Juno came to me then. Guided me to the Wolf’s House where Lupa trained me until she deemed me worthy to come here to Camp Polis. I’ve been here ever since.”

 

Clarke swallowed. What did one say to a story like that? “Thank you,” she managed to get out, her throat impossibly dry. “For sharing that with me.” She didn’t say anymore. She didn’t say anything like _‘It must’ve been hard,’_ or _‘You’ve been through a lot.’_ She knew they were useless. 

 

 Lexa’s stormy green eyes met hers and Clarke found herself captivated. She couldn’t look away. 

 

“Venus visited me a couple of times,” said Lexa continued, scowling at the mention of the goddess. “That nosy goddess.”

 

Clarke grinned a bit. It seemed Aphrodite was just as annoying in her Roman form. The goddess of love had pestered Clarke quite a bit as well about her love life. 

 

 “And then of course two years ago, Juno reappeared in front of me and told me about the importance of having our two camps work together,” said Lexa.

 

Clarke nodded. “Hera appeared at Camp Ark too with the same message.”

 

Lexa frowned as her eyes drifted away to gaze out of  the window in her office. “I wonder why.”

  
Clarke shrugged. “I find it to be easier not to dwell too much on what the gods say or why they do things a certain way. They can be confusing.”

 

“Perhaps,” Lexa said dismissively, still staring out the window. 

 

“So…” Clarke drawled. “You’ve never seen your father then,” she said quietly. 

 

Lexa shook her head, keeping her gaze fixed outside the window. Clarke felt another pang of emptiness hit her chest for the girl in front of her. She couldn’t imagine knowing her father was out there, watching her every move, but refusing to actually contact her. Especially since Lexa’s other parent was already out of the picture. 

 

Clarke couldn’t imagine the loneliness Lexa must’ve endured when she was younger. 

 

Hades, despite his godly disposition, had always been a decent father once Clarke found out he existed. He always came to her, reassured her when Clarke needed it most, and respected her. His support was probably half the reason why Clarke made it out alive the past five years and the reason why the gods didn’t lose the war in the previous year. 

 

Nothing made Clarke prouder than the moment when Hades told her she was his favorite demigod child by far, that he was proud to have her as his daughter. Clarke would give anything to keep him in her life. 

 

Meanwhile, Lexa, poor Lexa here, had never seen her father even once, never been patted on the back for her hard work or received a warm fatherly smile. She had to face everything Clarke faced with an unstaggering belief in the gods despite their absence. 

 

It felt cruel of the gods. Lexa’s mother was dead. Her father was alive, but not allowed to contact her. 

 

But then again, what did Clarke know? She wondered if Lexa ever wanted to see Jupiter, if she ever craved his validation even a little bit. 

 

Clarke was left to stand awkwardly as Lexa kept her gaze out the window. Lexa looked so open, so vulnerable and lost in her thoughts that Clarke didn’t want to interrupt. Suddenly the Roman shifted her attention to her. 

 

“There’s something I have to ask you as well,” said Lexa, pinning Clarke to the floor with her clear green eyes. 

 

“What is it?” Clarke asked, her voice catching. After Lexa revealed so much to her, Clarke found herself wanting to return the favor. 

 

“What happened back there in the meeting?” Lexa asked, her face suddenly hardening as if she’d slipped on a mask. 

 

Clarke blinked at the sudden shift in power dynamics between them. Gone was the vulnerable side to Lexa, hidden behind that familiar aura of power. Now, Clarke was the one being scrutinized. “What do you mean?”

 

Lexa just looked at Clarke as if she knew Clarke was playing dumb. Clarke, however, was a bit at a loss of what Lexa was referring to. 

 

_‘So much went wrong during that meeting. She’ll have to be a bit more specific.’_

 

“When Titus insulted your gods,” said Lexa carefully, keeping her eyes trained on Clarke. “You snapped.”

 

Clarke swallowed. Ah, that. 

 

Right. She’d almost forgot it happened. She’d hoped Lexa would’ve forgotten too. 

 

“The temperature dropped,” continued Lexa, eyeing Clarke as if trying to dissect her. “Ice formed on the table in the middle of summer. I know it’s colder in the mornings, but it’s not _that_ cold,” she said, with a raised eyebrow. “Then Titus looked like he couldn’t speak a word, and we all know how much he likes to talk,” gibed Lexa, lifting her chin in a royal intimidating sort of way. “Something tells me there was something preventing him from talking.” 

 

Clarke smiled weakly. “Uh, right. About that.” How should she explain this? 

 

“Sometimes, when I get really angry,” Clark drawled, glancing around the room as she grasped for the right words. “I can generate an aura of intense cold?” Clarke finished with a sheepish shrug. “Also, Hades has divine authority over the power of fear, you know as the god of the Underworld and all, so sometimes I can induce terrible terror when I want to be intimidating?” 

 

She phrased it more like a question than a statement, but she couldn’t help it. She hadn’t meant to use any of these powers. Titus must’ve made her angrier than she'd thought and she slipped. Usually, she had a much better grip on her powers. Truth be told, she hated using these specific abilities and only reserved them for the worst of people. 

 

After all, she knew what it was like to be gripped with irrational and terrible fear - she’d watched her father punish the worst of sinners to madness. 

 

Lexa regarded her for a brief second before the smallest of smiles broke across her lips. “So what I got from that is that we shouldn’t make you angry? That explains why a few of my Centurions looked downright terrified. I thought for sure Uzac was about to wet his pants.” 

 

Lexa didn’t mention that she had also felt, at least for a few seconds, the cold paralyzing grip of fear seep into her chest as she sat frozen to her seat with goosebumps rising from her arms to her neck. It alarmed her more than she’d like to admit but she also understood. After those few seconds of genuine fear, Lexa was left with nothing but awe at Clarke’s power. 

 

Lexa felt like she finally found someone who could probably prove to be her equal. 

 

And it was exciting. 

 

Clarke laughed, a bit relieved that Lexa wasn’t too afraid of her. She didn’t know what she’d do if Lexa were to shun her away. 

 

“That would’ve been a sight,” grinned Clarke. “But hey, I’m not the only one with anger quirks,” she said, raising an eyebrow in Lexa’s direction. “Was it me or was there a hint of ozone in the air the entire meeting. I almost thought a thunderstorm was heading our way.”

 

Lexa grinned dryly at her. “Guilty.” She shrugged. “It’s a good intimidation tactic.”

 

“It reminds them that you can literally smite them with lightning,” Clarke rephrased amusedly. 

 

“Doesn’t mean I will,” Lexa rolled her eyes in good humor. “And I only carried through with the threat once,” added Lexa with a small smile that made it impossible for Clarke to tell whether or not Lexa was joking.   
  


Clarke laughed either way, her adoration for the girl in front of her growing exponentially. Mentally, she thanked the Fates for allowing them to meet. She had a feeling that they would do great things together and only time would tell. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How's the chapter length?  
> Also, I know this chapter was a lot of talking. That's because the next chapter is going to be a looot of action.


	9. Departures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke shows off some cool healing abilities.  
> There's a fight. It's hopefully emotional.  
> Clarke and friends leave for the scouting mission.   
> Things go south pretty fast.

There was still a little less than two hours before noon when Clarke finished preparing for the scouting mission. Raven disappeared an hour ago muttering under her breath about all the things she still needed to do to fix the Argo II and Octavia was sound asleep in bed, worn out from yesterday as well as the Senate meeting this morning. 

 

With nothing else to do, Clarke checked her bag one more time. She had her cellphone, which was fully charged and turned off. She rarely ever used it. It was for emergencies only because using technology as a demigod was like sending a locating beacon to all the monsters nearby. She learned that the hard way. 

 

She also had a dog whistle in her bag which she carried everywhere. (It helped that the dog whistle would magically reappear in her pocket everytime she misplaced it). Her father gave it to her as a present three summers ago. With it, she could call Cerberus or any hellhound to her aid anytime and anywhere. 

 

She had another gift from Hades with her - a black shimmery cloak that mimicked the powers of Hades’s very own Helm of Darkness. Though Clarke could already hide her presence to some extent by covering her essence with shadows around her, the cloak made it a lot more effortless to disappear into thin air. It proved to be very useful in many past quests as well as whenever she needed to prank the Ares cabin. 

 

Besides these items, Clarke of course carried several essential healing supplies given her unofficial position as the team’s healer. Clarke eyed her supply of nectar and ambrosia. She was running a bit low after she used most of it on Octavia and Raven last night. It wouldn’t hurt to get a bit more for the trip just in case. 

 

With a goal in mind, Clarke set off for the Roman camp’s infirmary. 

 

* * *

  
  


Opening the door, Clarke peeked in and was mildly surprised to see the place nearly half full of injured demigods. The injuries all looked quite severe too. Clarke spotted --  _ felt --  _  several broken bones, some major cuts, and a few concussions. 

  
She took a step inside and was instantly awarded with several rather  _ harsh _ glares. Clarke wondered what she’d ever do to them to receive such treatment when the healer on duty peeked up from where he was stitching someone together and spotted her. 

 

“Ah, if it isn’t the woman of the hour,” he exclaimed, going back to his work, his hands moving quickly but nimbly. Clarke couldn’t quite decipher the meaning behind his words, but he was obviously very skilled at his job. 

 

“Thanks to you,” the boy continued, “I have my hands full with patching these people up.” He looked up suddenly, shooting Clarke a pointed glare. “Also, whatever you used for your stink bombs was horrid. It took me nearly an hour to find a countercurse for it and by then this place stunk worse than the pegasi stalls. And don’t even get me started on the glue and feathers,” he rolled his eyes, moving on to his next patient in a flurry of movement. “Broken arms, arrow wounds, lacerations - all that I can fix very easily. But ambrosia and nectar can only do so much in the face of magic induced stickiness and stink, you know.” 

 

It was only then Clarke realized that everyone around her was only there  _ because  _ of her. 

 

She immediately felt bad, but a part of her also knew that it wasn't her fault entirely. Injuries were just another part of being a demigod and with activities like war games, they were inevitable. It did however, explain the unfriendly treatment she was receiving. 

 

The healer must’ve noticed the look of guilt stricken across her face because he was quick to say, “Ah, don’t worry your pretty little head over it. It’s almost always like this after a war game. Us Romans are tough enough to endure whatever you throw at us.” He paused to look at Clarke curiously. “What are you doing here, anyways? Are you hurt?” He scanned her for any obvious injuries. 

 

Clarke shook her head. “No, I came to get some ambrosia and nectar. I’m leaving on a-”

 

“On a scouting mission,” the boy finished for her. When Clarke stared at him, he only responded, “Word travels fast around here. Especially since you and your friends are the only thing that everyone’s been talking about.” 

 

Clarke knew that of course, but to be told that to her face was something else. She briefly wondered if there were any positive rumors floating around about them. Probably not. 

 

“You’re a healer, right?” he continued without pausing. “I heard you were decent at it. At least that’s what the rumor mill says.” Clarke had to question how that bit of information got around. Was it Lincoln? 

 

“I could use your help for a bit. I’ll give you what you want as a reward?” Titus finished. 

 

Clarke chuckled to herself much to her own surprise. She found herself quickly taking a liking to the healer. He was easy to talk to, and unlike the other Romans, didn’t openly despise her. He even trusted her enough to let her tend to his patients. 

 

“Sure,” shrugged Clarke. She had time to kill anyways. Plus, she missed being in the infirmary. It was where she excelled. Ironic, she knew, that a daughter of Hades would be so good at preventing death, but it was true. 

 

“Perfect,” grinned the boy. “Pick whatever you like. There’s plenty of injures here to keep you busy.” He gestured absentmindedly to the many demigods that still needed to be tended to. 

 

“I’m pretty good at mending bones,” revealed Clarke, flexing her fingers in anticipation. “And stitching people up.”

  
“Really?” He regarded Clarke with interest. Stiching, he understood, but the bone mending talent was a unique one. He’d never known anyone to specialize in mending broken bones. “Then by all means. Be my guest.”

 

He pointed to a bed in the far left corner where a muscular boy with a shaved head lay motionless. “His injures are the worst. Two broken ribs, a shattered collarbone, and a cracked wrist. He’s in a lot of pain. I gave him as much ambrosia and nectar as I dared to without him burning up into ashes but that’s about all I could do. If you can help him, please do so.”

Clarke walked over to the demigod carefully slightly apprehensive. The injuries the healer listed all sounded life threatening. As she approached him, she was surprised to see that he was awake. That was a good sign usually. He regarded her with shielded eyes but he didn’t move. 

 

He couldn’t move, Clarke realized grimly. That’s how badly he was hurt. She quickly scanned his body. 

 

“Two completely broken ribs, one on each side at the top, and one slightly fractured on the left side right under. It appears to be caused by blunt trauma. Nothing was pierced though thankfully. Collarbone completely shattered. A fracture on the left wrist, and a fracture on the hip bone,” Clarke diagnosed, a little horrified at the injuries she just listed. Not the worst she’d ever seen, but for a playful siege, they were pretty serious.

 

Clarke took a second to read the boy’s life essence and was surprised to feel a strong pulsing force emanating from the boy. The essence wavered, obviously hurt and weakening, but it was still strong which astonished Clarke, who’d expected a much weaker life force. It could only mean that the boy was very strong willed. Clarke was reassured she’d be able to heal him back to full health. Death was not upon him yet. 

 

“I’m surprised you’re not passed out right now with that much pain,” said Clarke, addressing the boy. 

 

He only looked at her with contempt, his teeth gritted in pain. 

 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Clarke said gently, raising both hands in the air to show that she was defenseless. She approached him carefully and slowly, making sure not to startle him. “I’m going to place my hands on your chest, very gently,” she said in her most soothing voice possible. “I’m just going to need you to trust me. I promise I can make the pain go away.” ‘ _ At least for a little while…’ _

 

The injured boy scowled at her. “I do not trust  _ Graecus,”  _ he managed to choke out, though the effort brought forth tears in his eyes. “Especially not you.”

 

Clarke frowned at the boy in disbelief. Even though he was like this, he still didn’t want her help. Clarke honestly thought she’d seen the limit of Roman stubbornness but here she was being proven wrong yet again. 

 

“You don’t really have much of a choice,” said Clarke sternly, not in the mood to argue. It would only prolong this boy’s pain and healing him was her number one priority right now, camp rivalries be damned. “I can mend your bones and the pain will go away.”

 

“Don’t. Need. Your. Help,” he managed to spit out through clenched teeth. 

 

Clarke huffed lightly. “Well, you’re going to get it anyways.” If he was going to be stubborn, then she was going to be stubborn too. She was a healer for god's sake, she couldn’t just walk away now. It would go against the Healer’s Code she pledged to Apollo. 

 

The boy flinched as she approached, only to immediately freeze as even the slightest movement brought forth a wave of intense pain. Clarke eyed him with sympathy. 

 

Instead of placing her hand on his chest, she hovered it over his body. It wouldn’t be as effective, and it would be harder for her, but she could manage. 

 

Clarke closed her eyes and focused. She imagined concentrating her energy into the palm of her hands and felt a pull from her gut in response. Then, she felt the familiar rush of energy fill her entire body and her hands were quickly enveloped by a warm golden glow. She fought to maintain the glow for a few seconds before taking her hands away and moving them to his collarbone. Then, the wrist, and finally the hip. When she was finally done, she dropped her hands to her side, slightly worn out, and looked at the boy. 

 

He was staring up at her with wonder. 

 

“What-” He was speechless. “What did you do?” he asked, eyes as wide as his mouth. 

 

Clarke quirked her eyebrow. “I told you I could fix you up.”

 

The boy sat up slowly, almost like a newborn learning to move, and stared at his body in awe. He patted his collarbones, then his chest. He stared at his wrist as he twirled them around. 

 

“I’m...healed,” he said, still in disbelief. “I don’t feel any pain anymore.”

 

“Yeah no, that’ll go away in a few seconds,” Clarke told him matter of factly, grabbing the cup of  nectar by his bedside and forcing it into his hands. “I may have fixed your bones up for you, but you still have a ton of internal bleeding. But it’s nothing a few cubes of ambrosia and some nectar can’t fix.”

 

She watched him with a stern eye as he gulped down the entirety of his cup. 

 

“Still,” said the boy once he was done, looking up at Clarke as if she were an angel. “I-” he stammered. “I don’t know how to-” he swallowed. “Thank you,” he mumbled clumsily. His cheeks flushed as he looked down in shame. “I insulted you, yet you still helped me.” He looked up, clearing his throat, suddenly looking very determined. “And for that, I apologize.” 

 

He bowed slightly, leaving Clarke a little uncertain about what to do with all this respect all of a sudden. “I owe you a great debt,” he declared. 

 

Clarke waved him off. “I’m a healer,” she said simply. “It’s my duty. I couldn’t just let you lie there in pain when I could do something about it.”

 

The boy considered her words for a second before nodding his head, accepting Clarke’s grace. “My name is Tristan. If you ever need anything, you can ask for me in the Third Cohort,” he offered.  

 

Clarke felt the corners of her lips lift in pleasant surprise at his words. It seemed that she just gained another ally in this camp. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

The healer boy from before walked up behind her and stared at Clarke with shocked questioning eyes. 

 

“How did you do that?” he inquired, unable to hide his curiosity. “I’ve never heard of a demigod that could do that. Even Apollo’s most talented children here do not possess that ability.”

 

Clarke turned to face the healer. “That’s because it’s a quirk of being a Hades child,” Clarke told him. “We’re what you would call, experts in bone control -- osteokinesis if you will,” she said, summoning a bone to prove her point. 

 

“I can, to some extent, sense and control bones. It’s a lot easier if the bones are already out of the body of course, but it applies either way,” explained Clarke as she expertly molded the bone in her hand into a small Cerberus shaped figurine. She handed it over to the healer who stared at it in bewilderment. 

 

“So can you just-” the healer gestured to his wrist. 

 

“Break your bones at will?” finished Clarke. The boy nodded. 

 

“I can,” admitted Clarke, hiding a wince. She preferred helping people with her abilities rather than hurting others, but people tended to only zero in on how dangerous she was. “But it depends on how close you are, which bone I’m trying to break, and how desperate I am to break your bones.” 

 

The boy dropped his hand suddenly, hiding it from Clarke’s view. It made Clarke smirk dryly. She wasn’t just going to go around breaking people’s bones for the fun of it.

 

“That’s a neat skill to have,” the boy swallowed, lost in thoughts. He suddenly startled and extended his arm. “I’m Nyko, by the way. I’m the Head Healer here and a legionnaire of the First Cohort. My dad’s Apollo.” He paused, and glanced at his outstretched hand. “Please don’t break my wrist.”

 

Clarke laughed a little at that. She could tell Nyko was just joking around. She clasped his forearm, squeezing tightly to scare the boy but didn’t attempt to break his wrist. “Nice to meet you. I’m-”

 

“Clarke Griffin,” Nyko finished for her with a grin. “People talk remember?”

 

“Right,” Clarke nodded as she regarded Nyko and the easy grin he donned on his face as well as the openness in his eyes. Perhaps she’d made two allies today, not just one. 

 

“Anyways, would you mind giving me a hand with a few others?” Nyko asked. “I’ll go get your ambrosia and nectar.”

 

“Sure thing,” said Clarke as she maneuvered her way around the room, picking out the ones with broken or fractured bones. 

 

After her little show with Tristan, the other Roman demigods were slightly more open to letting her treat them. A few regarded her with careful eyes, but none refused to be treated by her. Instead, they openly allowed her access to their injuries. 

 

Within a span of twenty minutes, Clarke fixed eleven broken ribs, two broken arms, four twisted ankles, three hip fractures, one broken shin, and five broken wrists. She’d also stitched together four sword wounds and two arrow wounds as well as banadaged a few burns. 

 

Clarke collapsed on the closest chair, exhausted. She hadn’t exerted herself like this in a while. Perhaps she should’ve restrained herself a bit more, considering she was about to leave on a scouting mission in less than an hour. 

 

“Here you go,” Nyko said, plopping down a plastic bag filled with ambrosia and a canteen of nectar into Clarke’s lap. “Should last you a couple of weeks,” he winked at her. Clarke thanked him for his generosity which Nyko waved away. 

 

“Just come back and help out here once in a while and I’ll be happy,” he said simply. “Your stitching is impressively neat.”

 

“I learned from my mom when I was four,” Clarke told him. “She said I was going to need it someday. She was right, obviously.”

 

“Smart mom,” Nyko quipped. “Anyways, I’ll take care of the rest here. I know you still have other matters to attend to.”

 

Clarke sighed. Why did the day feel so long? Oh right, she woke up at five in the morning. 

 

Clarke couldn’t believe she’d already been awake for more than six hours and it wasn’t even noon yet. She really should’ve taken a page out of Octavia’s book and taken a nap. Clarke wasn’t sure she was going to last until the scouting mission. 

 

“Oh right,” Nyko said as Clarke was about to leave. He handed her a small envelope. “Can you do me a favor and give that to the Praetor? It’s the inventory for this month. She was asking for it. You know-” He gestured his hand vaguely in the air. “For war preparations.”

 

Clarke nodded, a little struck by how thorough Lexa was, and stuck it into her back pocket. “Yup. I got it.”

 

“Thanks,” Nyko gave her one last grin before returning to his errands. 

 

Clarke sighed to herself. Guess it was back to Praetor office for her. 

 

_ ‘At least it gives me an excuse to talk to Lexa again.’  _

 

* * *

  
  


Clarke was walking up the steps leading to Lexa’s office when she first heard the voices. Two people were talking behind closed doors in Lexa’s office. About what though, Clarke was still too far to make out. 

The first voice was definitely Lexa’s. There was just a quality to Lexa’s voice that made it stand out amongst others to Clarke. The second voice, Clarke discovered upon a closer listen, belonged to Luna. 

 

“You can’t just leave,” Lexa’s voice permeated through the doors. The low tone of anger made Clarke freeze in her spot. 

 

Oh. 

 

Oh no. __

 

This was not a pleasant conversation she just stumbled upon. 

 

“I have to, Lexa. I’ve been away from my sisters for too long,” Luna’s voice carried through this time, gentle, pleading, and contrite. 

_ ‘Sisters?’   _ Mild surprise rang through Clarke at the news of Luna leaving, but then she remembered Luna’s words to her yesterday. The girl did say it was her time to go. 

 

“I can’t  _ believe _ you,” Lexa’s voice sounded once more, and even through thick doors, Clarke could hear the anger clearly. “How can you just leave when we’re so close to taking down the Mountain?” Lexa wasn’t shouting, her tone carefully controlled but that was even scarier. 

 

Though Lexa was clearly an expert at hiding her true emotions, Clarke was an expert at picking them out. She could just barely make out the pained undertones of Lexa’s voice underneath all the anger. 

“How can you leave your friends, your family, your Legion?” Lexa asked, fury underlining every word. 

 

“I’m not leaving for good. You know I’ll visit,” said Luna sounding rather helpless. 

“I don’t understand,” said Lexa frustrated. From the shadows dancing across the floor, Clarke could tell that Lexa was pacing the floor, restless in her anger. “Why’d you even come back if you were just going to leave again?”

“You  _ know  _ why I came back,” said Luna, pleading, but also just as frustrated. Clarke had a feeling this wasn’t the first time they fought about this. 

“And the war with the Mountain,” protested Lexa. She sounded so defeated now, Clarke wanted to just barge in and give her a hug. “How am I supposed to defeat the Mountain without you?”

“You don’t need me,” said Luna softly sounding apologetic but sure. “You know I’m not the one you need.”

 

“You don’t get to  _ decide _ what I need,” fumed Lexa, her anger rising again. “What about the Legion? Does the tattoo on your arm mean nothing to you now that you’ve made an oath and joined  _ them _ ?” Lexa said  _ ‘them’  _ with so much contempt, Clarke winced. 

 

“You know the Legion means everything to me,” said Luna, her tone offended. 

 

“Yet you leave the moment we go to war with our biggest enemy,” Lexa bit back darkly. Clarke had never imagined Lexa could sound so bitter. 

 

“I don’t have a choice,” protested Luna, slowly growing angry with the conversation. 

 

“Yes you do!” said Lexa. “You did!”

 

“You just chose them over us,” said Lexa, venom dripping from every word. Clarke didn’t even understand the whole situation, yet she found herself flinching at Lexa’s tone. Lexa was  _ really _ angry. The scent of ozone heavily coated the air. Clarke almost felt like she was choking on it. 

 

“Are we really going to have this fight again?” Luna asked icily. “You knew I had to leave eventually.”

 

“I’d assumed you’d at least stay until  _ after _ the Mountain fell,” retorted Lexa. “I’d never thought you’d be a coward and try to run away before the fighting even started. You’re a traitor to the Legion,” she accused harshly and Clarke had to bite back a gasp at her words. 

 

“Do  _ not _ call me that,” Luna fought back, her voice tight with anger and frustration. “I’ve already extended my stay as long as I could because of you. I  _ came back _ because of you. Why can’t you be a little grateful?”

 

“You didn’t come back because of me,” muttered Lexa darkly. “You came back because you felt guilty.” 

 

There was a second of absolute silence that followed. 

 

Clarke waited in agonizing suspense for what happened next. She really should’ve left and come back another time, but she was leaving soon and she still needed to give Lexa the inventory list. So she stayed rooted her spot on the stairs where she remained privy to what was clearly a very personal, very private, conversation. 

 

“You came back,” Lexa continued, her voice having dropped so low Clarke could barely hear it. “Because you felt that her death was your fault,” Lexa’s voice trembled and Clarke felt her heart break at the pain in her voice. “That had you been there, perhaps you could’ve done something and then maybe she’d still be here,  _ alive _ .” 

 

Clarke could only imagine the look on Lexa’s face that would accompany such a cruel comment as her body shivered involuntarily. She may be the one that’s able to physically drop temperatures when mad, but Lexa could do it all on her own using just her words. 

 

“That’s a low blow,” rasped Luna, her voice equally low, equally as hurt. “You can’t possibly blame me for her death.”

 

“No,” came Lexa’s steady answer, hard and unrelenting. “But you blame yourself. That’s why you came back.”

 

More silence. 

 

Clarke waited as the seconds ticked by. Her hands fidgeted with the waistband of her pants, the ADHD in her not allowing her to stay still. 

 

Finally, Luna’s voice sounded through the door. “You know what, Lexa? Fuck you.”

 

“Fuck you!” Luna repeated. “I’m leaving tonight and I don’t care what you do. You can try to stop me but I’m leaving.”

 

“Then leave,” said Lexa unfeelingly. “And don’t come back. The Legion doesn’t need legionnaires that run when the situation gets tough.”

 

“Arrrgh,” Luna screamed loudly, causing Clarke to jump in surprise. “You’re unbelievable.” 

 

Clarke heard the thump thump of loud angry footsteps coming closer to the door and panicked. However, before she could completely duck out of the way, the door swung open violently and Clarke could only freeze as Luna caught her standing there, obviously having eavesdropped on their conversation. 

 

The door slammed shut behind Luna, but not before Clarke saw a glimpse of an upset Lexa wiping away her tears while facing the window. Clarke gulped and shifted her gaze to Luna who took in her presence with surprise. 

 

Luna, to her credit, composed herself quicker than Clarke probably could’ve if she were in the same situation. She wiped away the tears in her eyes just as they were about to fall and sniffed once before shooting Clarke a sad defeated grin. 

 

“I guess you heard that, huh?” she chuckled humorlessly. 

 

Clarke paled. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I swear! I just-” she fumbled for the envelope in her back pocket, nearly dropping it in the process. “I told - Nyko asked me to deliver this Lexa, so I uh-.” She gestured awkwardly to the general area she was standing in. “I didn’t hear that much, if that helps,” Clarke offered helplessly. It was a lie, and Luna seemed to sense it too as she regarded Clarke with slightly red tinged  brown eyes. 

 

“Lexa’s not really in the mood for seeing people right now,” Luna joked with a weak smile. “Just leave it on the ground here and she’ll see it.” Clarke did as she was told, awkwardly returning Luna’s smile. 

 

When Clarke straightened back up from putting the envelope on the ground, she was met with Luna’s stare, scrutinizing, observing, and analyzing. 

 

“Walk with me for a bit.” 

 

The sudden request startled Clarke. The way Luna said it also didn’t sound like a request but a command. Clarke could only comply with a nod, the awkwardness of having been caught eavesdropping still lingering in her movements. 

 

She followed Luna in silence for five minutes until Luna came to a stop just outside a temple before turning around to face Clarke. Clarke scanned the temple behind Luna. It was made completely of white marble and in the middle stood a fifteen foot statue of a goddess holding a bow and arrow, with a deer by her side. 

 

Slowly, she pieced together the clues. 

 

“You’re leaving,” offered Clarke. Luna nodded. “To rejoin your sisters,” Clarke stated, repeating the same words Luna used during her argument with Lexa. It didn’t make any sense then, but it made a lot of sense now. 

 

“You’re joining the Hunters of Artemis,” deduced Clarke. 

 

The Hunters of Artemis were a group of maidens who’ve sworn loyalty to Artemis to join her for the Hunt and reject love for as long as they lived. In return, Artemis granted them immortality until they broke oath or died. Artemis had tried recruiting Octavia once, before trying to recruit Clarke as well. They’d both refused. 

 

Luna smiled at her, not at all surprised that Clarke figured it out. 

 

“Diana,” Luna corrected gently. “Hunters of Diana, though I guess they’re the same goddess, aren’t they?” she mused. “And technically, I’m already a Hunter. I’d asked Diana for a temporary reprieve earlier this year for some time to take care of...personal matters. Diana was kind enough to comply.”

 

Clarke didn’t push. “So you’re immortal?” Clarke asked surprised. “Wow.” She made a show of dramatically looking Luna up and down. “So how old are you exactly?” she asked with a small grin. “Two hundred?”

 

Luna laughed, a small but genuine laugh. Clarke considered it a victory. “I only joined last year. Technically I’ve lived for nineteen years, but I was eighteen when I joined, a little older than most of my sisters who joined when they were fourteen or fifteen.”

 

“Huh,” Clarke hummed. “So you’re stuck looking like the granny in the group for eternity?” she teased. “That sucks.”

 

Luna laughed again. “It’s not all bad,” she grinned. “I have to admit it is a little weird to talk with people who look five years younger but in reality have lived at least ten times longer than me, but I’ve mostly gotten used to it.” She paused, letting the smile play on her lips for a few more seconds before it died out. She turned to look at Clarke. 

 

“I have to go back,” she said, an earnest look in her eyes. Clarke didn’t understand why it seemed like Luna was now trying to convince her instead of Lexa. “I only came back, because, well-” Her eyes flickered to the building that held Lexa’s office. 

 

“To help Lexa,” Clarke finished. 

 

Luna nodded, though the uncertainty she felt was clearly painted across her face. “Right, but Lexa no longer needs my help so I’m leaving.” She trailed off at the end and Clarke let the silence hang between them. 

 

“Why are you telling me all of this though?” Clarke asked. Why  _ was  _ Luna telling her everything? By all means, she was a stranger. Sure she was caught eavesdropping, but Luna didn’t owe her an explanation.

 

Luna gazed at her with soft, almost knowing eyes. “You matter, Clarke. I don't know how, but I can tell you’re important.”

 

Clarke raised an eyebrow at the cryptic answer. “Thanks? I think?” She’d been called important before. None of those times really meant that good fortune was in store for her. 

 

“Do me a favor?” Luna asked, and even though she hadn’t even asked Clarke for anything yet, Clarke felt the burden of another promise settle heavily on her shoulders. 

 

Yet, it seemed Clarke was getting into the habit of helping Roman legionnaires with favors. What was one more favor for her first ever Roman demigod friend? 

  
“Sure, name it,” said Clarke, straightening up almost as if preparing herself physically for whatever words Luna was about to throw at her. “If I can help you, I’ll definitely do it.”

 

“Take care of Lexa for me, will you?” 

 

Clarke blinked. Well, that certainly wasn’t what Clarke was expecting. Especially after the two girls just had what Clarke considered a very serious argument. She was thinking more along the lines of ‘ _ Can you water my plant for me when I’m gone? _ ’ type of favor. 

 

But Luna’s eyes were soft, gentle, and so kind. Her smile was sad and regretful and Clarke couldn’t find it in herself to reject her. 

 

“I don’t think Lexa needs my help,” Clarke said instead. And it was the truth too. “She’s strong enough on her own.”

 

“She is,” Luna agreed with a small nod. “But she’s not invincible. She may seem really tough on the outside, but on the inside, she’s really just lonely.”

 

Clarke was reminded of Lexa’s childhood, of how she grew up without either of her parents, of how she was thrown into the dangerous world of gods at such a young vulnerable age and then shouldered every responsibility thrown at her because that’s just who she was.  She recalled watching Lexa circling above them, watching from a distance, as everyone else participated in the Siege. 

 

The idea that perhaps, just perhaps, the always put together, strong, intimidating girl was sometimes a little bit lonely, planted itself into Clarke’s mind. Now Clarke wouldn’t be able to help looking for moments of weakness whenever she was around Lexa. Clarke bit back a sigh. 

 

“I’m asking you to coddle her,” said Luna understandingly. This wasn’t a small favor she’d asked of the blonde. “Gods know how she’ll react to that. She’ll probably smite you and you’ll end up a permanent stain on the floors of Polis.” Clarke allowed herself a small smile at the image. “But when the time comes, can you promise me you’ll try to be there for her?”

 

When Clarke didn’t respond right away, Luna added, “She has no one else.”

 

Clarke gave Luna an incredulous look. “She has tons of people.”

 

Luna shook her head, turning around to face the temple of Diana, leaving Clarke to stare at her back. 

 

“Lexa is always surrounded by people, but she lacks people whom she can fully trust,” Luna told her. “Being Praetor is a lonely position. It’s why I turned it down and why Lexa has been Praetor for five years straight already. Most Praetors only serve for two years before the pressure breaks them or they die in an attempt against the Mountain.”

 

Clarke swallowed. Well that was reassuring for their future prospects. Truly. But why was Luna telling her all of this? What was she to Lexa but a stranger?

 

“She has Anya, but Anya lacks a gentleness that Lexa will need when the time comes. Everyone else are either jealous of her or put her on a pedestal,” said Luna softly. “She can’t just keep being strong for everyone else. She needs someone to rely on too. An equal. And for years, I tried to be that person but now our paths diverge.” Luna breathed in softly. 

 

“She has no one,” Luna repeated quietly before turning around, brown eyes meeting blue. 

 

“But why me?” Clarke asked, feeling her throat dry up all of a sudden. “I can’t do anything. I just met Lexa, literally two days ago. I barely  _ know  _ her,” Clarke lied. 

 

Despite the short amount of time they’ve known each other, Clarke couldn’t deny that there  _ was something  _ there. Maybe she was just delusional or maybe it was just from her end, but whenever she was with Lexa she felt like she was with someone who could understand her, given time. But Clarke couldn’t tell Luna that. She could barely admit it to herself. 

 

“I’m also Greek,” Clarke pointed out. “I won’t be here forever.”

 

Luna shrugged. “I have a feeling,” Luna said, a mysterious smile playing on her lips. “You two are very alike, you know?”

 

Clarke furrowed her eyebrows at that. “Are we?”

 

Luna shrugged again. “In some ways, yes.”

 

“You know, you’re starting to sound like an immortal,” Clarke commented. “They never speak straightforwardly. It’s always riddle after riddle for them.”

 

Luna cracked a smile at Clarke’s joke. “Just, promise me you’ll  _ try _ to look after her?” Luna tried once more. “Humor me so I can at least leave having done one thing right?”

 

Clarke sighed, letting out her breath through her nose. Luna really wasn’t playing fair. Still, she relented. Clarke had the feeling that even if Luna hadn’t asked her, she would’ve eventually ended up doing the same thing on her own will. There was something about Lexa that just drew Clarke to Lexa. 

 

“I’ll try, but I can’t promise anything,” huffed Clarke. 

 

Luna grinned. “That’s good enough for me. I feel like you’re the type to keep your word, Clarke Griffin.”

 

“Thanks?” Clarke shuffled her feet in the dirt, unsure of how to respond to that. The sort-of-a-promise-but-not-really-a-promise she just made weighed heavily in her chest. She looked at Luna to distract her from her thoughts. “When are you leaving?”

 

“Tonight,” answered Luna, glancing up at the sky. “As soon as the moon is in the sky.”

 

“But that’s so soon!” Clarke protested, her eyebrows rising to her hairline. 

 

Luna laughed, cooing at her. “Aww, are you going to miss me?”

 

“Of course, I’m going to miss you!” Clarke protested, crossing her arms across her chest in embarrassment as she felt her cheeks blush a little. “You were my first friend here,” she muttered. 

 

Luna laughed, delighted, before pulling Clarke into a tight hug. “I’ll miss you too. I’m almost sad to leave,” she said pulling away. “A part of me wants to stay just to see you and Lexa take down the Mountain together,” Luna admitted. “To stand by your side as it falls once and for all.” 

 

Clarke raised an eyebrow at her confidence. “You sound so sure the Mountain will fall,” she said. Clarke herself wasn’t so sure. After all, the Legion had been at war with the Mountain for centuries to no avail. History dictated they would fail this time too. Clarke could only hope that she and everyone she cared about would come out unscathed though she knew it was unlikely. 

 

“Consider it an immortal’s gut feeling,” grinned Luna, patting her stomach for emphasis. 

 

“Well,” Clarke grinned back though she was sad to see her friend go. “You can still be there when it happens. Just because you’re going back to your sisters doesn’t mean it’s goodbye forever.”

 

“True,” Luna nodded. “Perhaps I can convince Diana to help out against the Mountain.”

 

“I’m sure Lexa would appreciate it,” Clarke quipped gently. 

 

Luna’s expression dropped at the reminder. 

 

“I’m sure she didn’t mean it,” Clarke prodded gently. “But talk to her. Before you leave,” she insisted. “You don’t want to leave with that argument being the last thing you say to each other.”

 

Luna regarded Clarke with a small knowing smile. “Just how much did you hear exactly, Clarke?”

 

Clarke shrugged, giving her a sheepish smile. “Enough?”

 

Luna rolled her eyes in good humor, giving Clarke a playful shove. “I’ll talk to her,” she stated with determination. “It’s good to see you taking your promise seriously already.”

 

“Hey,” Clarke protested. “It’s for your own good too.”

 

“I know, I know,” Luna drawled. She sighed, shooting Clarke a small grin. “Be safe out there Clarke. The Mountain is a formidable opponent.”

 

Clarke rolled her eyes. “So everyone keeps telling me.” Her comment earned her another playful shove from Luna that sent her stumbling to regain her footing.  

 

The impending deadlines of both their departures weighed heavily on them as Clarke straightened up. She gave Luna a small smile. “You take care too,” she said softly. 

 

“May we meet again,” said Luna, holding her arms out for one last hug. 

 

“We better,” retorted Clarke, laughing as she fell willingly into Luna’s embrace. “Or else I’ll wait an eternity in the Underworld for your immortal ass.”

 

Luna laughed, relief in her heart as she hugged Clarke close. 

 

* * *

 

Clarke met up with the others at the pegasi stalls at twelve o’clock on the dot. 

 

“There she is,” Raven announced her arrival with an excited grin. “Where’d you go? We couldn’t find you.”

 

“Everywhere,” Clarke grumbled, a little worn out from the day’s events. She couldn’t believe the day was only halfway over.  __ Her eyes met Lincoln’s, whom she hadn’t seen yet today and waved hi. The son of Mercury returned her greeting. 

 

Clarke was so worn out, physically and emotionally, that it took her a second to register Titus’s presence. When she did however, her guard immediately rose. She straightened her posture, hiding away any traces of weakness and regarded the boy with a cautious gaze. 

 

“Not going to lie,” admitted Clarke, her tone chilly as she recalled her ire from this morning. “But I was so sure you were going to chicken out at the last minute.”

 

Titus curled his lips contemptuously at her. “You would’ve liked that, wouldn’t you,  _ Graecus?” _

 

_ ‘Yes,’ _ Clarke thought to herself.  _ ‘I would’ve liked that a lot actually.’ _ . 

 

“Enough chit chat,” Anya interrupted, clearly not in a mood to deal with their thinly veiled threatening banter. She shot both of them a suspicious look as if to say  _ ‘I’m watching you’  _ before turning towards the stalls. “We’ll be riding pegasi to our destination. Everyone pick a-” She never got to finish her sentence as Octavia immediately rushed past her. 

“I call the white one!” Octavia yelled, running towards it before anyone else could claim it. She approached the steed confidently, “Why helloooo. Aren’t you a pretty thang?” she cooed at the white pegasus, petting its mane. It snorted once in her face and stomped its feet twice in response

 

“Yup! This one is mine. It likes me,” Octavia giggled, completely enamored. 

“I’ll take this one,” Raven pointed at the biggest looking pegasus. “You better not drop me,” she told it as she approached it cautiously. She tried to pet it only to leave her hand hesitantly lingering in the air, a safe distance from strong teeth, before dropping it. “Gods I prefer machines. They’re so much more reliable,” she huffed to herself. “You won’t drop me, right?”

 

The pegasus neighed as if offended. 

Meanwhile, a midnight black steed walked over to Clarke before she even got a chance to look at any others. It seemed to observe Clarke for a second, taking in her scent, before bowing its head to allow Clarke to pet it.

“I guess that takes care of that,” Anya muttered seeing that every Greek was paired off with a pegasus. “Saddle up.” She told them, easily climbing atop her own steed. 

“Of course you’d get that one,” Raven commented, once she was able to somewhat balance herself atop her pegasus if not a bit precariously “Black for the daughter of Hades. Must you be such a stereotype all the time?”

 

“Your dad  _ is  _ famous for having four black horses that pull his chariot,” Octavia insinuated with a grin. 

“Hey,” Clarke retorted back indignantly as she hopped onto her own pegasus. “It chose me. Not the other way around. Besides,” she grinned, petting the pegasus’s head fondly. “You try saying no to those adorable eyes. Look at ‘em.”

“Honestly, Clarke needs to wear more black or something. Everyone always thinks you’re a daughter of Apollo,” said Octavia, looking ready and eager to head out. “Remember when she first came to camp?” she asked Raven who laughed in response. “We all thought she was going to be an Apollo kid. Then we found out she couldn’t shoot an arrow to save her life.”

“It’s the sun-kissed blonde hair and the sky blue eyes,” Raven sighed woefully. “As if you fell from the skies.”

“Not my fault my mother’s genes overpower even those of a god,” Clarke bit back.

“Ah yes, Abby Griffin is quite an extraordinary woman, isn’t she?” Raven teased back, wiggling her eyebrows up and down.

“Ewwwww,” Clarke covered her ears. “I still can’t believe you have a crush on my mother! She’s too old for you!” Clarke complained.

 

“If you guys are done being idiots,” Anya stated sternly, maneuvering her pegasus to stand between them. “Then I’d like to leave today.”

 

Clarke hoisted herself up and adjusted her position until she was comfortable. She’d only ridden a pegasus two other times in her life so she was still a little uncomfortable with it. Normally, she’d prefer her own chariot, which was another gift courtesy of her father. However, even her and Raven’s lack of experience were nothing when compared to the last member of their party. 

 

Anya eyed Titus who was clearly having trouble controlling his pegasus. The boy kept trying his best to climb atop the pegasus but the pegasus was not having it. It bucked and thrashed wildly, refusing to let Titus near it. 

 

“How hard can it be?” Anya mockingly repeated his words from this morning as she’d foreseen this. “You’re one-fourth god.”

 

“Stupid thing,” Titus muttered as it fought for control over the reigns with the pegasus. “It won’t cooperate.”

 

“I can’t believe he almost tried to fight me,” said Octavia, clearly enjoying the scene in front of her. “He’s about to get his ass handed to him by a pegasus.”

 

“Quit wasting time,” Anya growled impatiently. “Either get on a pegasus or we’re leaving you behind. And you can explain to Lexa why you’re still here after twelve.”

 

Titus huffed, throwing away the reigns in anger before he turned to Lincoln, determined. 

 

“Oh no,” Lincoln muttered under his breath in trepidation as Titus walked up to him. 

 

“Let me ride with you,” demanded Titus. Lincoln looked as if he’d eaten spoiled fish. He was about as pleased about the prospect of sharing a pegasus with Titus as Hera was with her husband’s affairs. 

 

Lincoln glanced to Anya for support but she almost looked viciously delighted at the thought of them two sharing a ride. Her eyes glinted with repressed amusement. Better him than her. 

 

“Fine,” Lincoln relented seeing no other way. He scooted back and waited for Titus to climb on. When Titus still couldn’t get on after his third try, Lincoln just gave up and hoisted him onto his pegasus by grabbing him on the back of his collar. 

 

“No need to be so rough,” muttered Titus as he straightened out his clothes before adjusting his position. Lincoln’s face was hardened with reluctant restraint. He shot Octavia a hopeless look who bit back a grin. 

 

“Careful,” Clarke joked, whispering to Octavia. “Titus might just steal Mr. Tall Handsome and Muscular from you.”

 

Octavia snorted, shooting one more look at Lincoln’s constipated expression. “I think I’m fine in that department, babe, but thanks.”

 

“Now that we’re  _ finally _ ready,” Anya stated, exasperation in her tone. “Let’s go. I’ll take the vanguard. Lincoln-” Her eyes flashed to Titus who looked like a child tucked into the front of Lincoln’s muscular build and bit back a laugh though she was unsuccessful. “You bring up the rear.”

 

Lincoln nodded reluctantly and put his arms around Titus to hold onto the reins. He tried not to grimace as Titus wiggled against his chest, still trying to find the most comfortable position. 

 

“Everyone else stay between us.” Anya’s eyes flashed dangerously as she addressed them. “If you even think of going in front of me or lag behind, I won’t hesitate to shoot you and you can fall to your death for all I care.”

 

“Cheery,” Raven grinned sarcastically. 

 

Anya ignored her. Without another word, she took off into the sky, leaving Clarke and the others scrambling to follow after her. 

 

The journey there would only take about an hour or so. Clarke was estimated they’d be back in four. It was by all means a simple mission. 

 

She had no idea how wrong she was. 

 

* * *

 

The ride to the Mountain passed uneventfully, besides the few times Titus almost threatened to throw up on Lincoln, and the one time Clarke almost slipped off her own pegasus after falling asleep.

 

“This is the Mountain?” Octavia asked as soon as they landed, looking around at the dense forest that surrounded them. 

 

“The Mountain is up ahead to the North. We should be about fifty feet away from the danger zone,” answered Lincoln who slipped off his pegasus smoothly. Titus on the other hand practically flopped to the ground, face planting into the dirt. 

 

Clarke looked up at the sky and could just make out the peak of the mountain in the distance over the treetops. 

 

_ ‘That is kind of far. How are we going to fight something that we can’t even get close to?’  _ Clarke wondered grimly. 

 

“Now that we’re here,” said Anya, her voice serious. “Be on alert. Remember this is only a scouting mission. We’re not supposed to-”

 

“What is that?” Clarke suddenly asked, whirling around to look behind her. All she saw were trees. 

 

“What is it, Clarke?” Octavia asked, as she and Raven sided up next to the blonde defensively. They’d been friends long enough with Clarke to know when to trust Clarke’s instincts. 

 

They waited, but nothing happened. 

 

“If you’re messing around just to scare me-” Titus started to say. 

 

Clarke shushed him, her body tense. “Does anyone else hear that?” she asked, straining her ears. “There’s like a sort of hissing sound.”

 

The others took a second to listen. 

 

“I don’t hear anything,” reported Lincoln, shooting Anya a confused look. The Roman Centurion shook her head subtly. She didn’t hear anything either.  

 

Clarke waited another second but the sound was gone. Clarke frowned, trying to peer into the distance, eyes searching for something, anything. She knew she’d definitely felt something just now and she was usually right. It was what had kept her alive all these years. However, all she saw were still trees. After a few more seconds, Clarke shook her head. “Maybe it was just a false alarm.”

 

The feeling that something was there however still lingered in her gut. Clarke had a hard time ignoring it but Anya was starting to look impatient. 

 

Raven and Octavia both shot her a look as if they could tell Clarke hadn’t really dropped it either but Clarke only shook her head. Hopefully it really wasn’t anything.

 

Anya regarded her apprehensively before walking on ahead, leaving the others to follow her. “Our main goal is to observe,” Anya continued. “If we see Reapers, acid fog, or even Mountain Men, we are to watch silently and not engage,” she said sternly. “Lest we get captured and die.”

 

“There’s really no need to add that last bit, is there?” Octavia frowned, mumbling.

 

“What happens if the acid fog does come out?” Raven asked, jogging a bit to walk side by side with Anya. “Are there safety protocols? How would we even know if there’s acid in the air?”

 

“There’s a signal, a sort of siren the Mountain will emit before it happens. Then, our best bet is to duck into a bunker for safety and wait it out,” Anya answered. 

 

“What about Reapers?” Clarke asked from the other side of Anya. “Are there any signals that give away when-”

 

She never finished her sentence. Clarke was suddenly stepping and twisting her body, her feet pivoting below her. All Anya saw was a quick flash of black shiny metal before she heard the unmistakable clang of metal making contact. 

 

Everyone else jumped back in surprise as Clarke’s sword clashed with the outstretched fangs of a monster. 

 

“What the fu-” The rest of the word died in Titus’s throat from fear as he instinctively clutched onto Lincoln for support. He caught the sight of venomous snakes from the corner of his eye and immediately shut them close as tightly as possible. 

 

“Don’t look!” he screamed. “They’re gorgons! One look in their eyes and you’ll turn to stone.” The unmistakable sound of snakes hissing was enough to believe him. 

 

“Seriously, it’s only been like two minutes,” Raven complained under her breath, as she shut her eyes and reached for her dagger. She felt a body move next to her and froze, unsure whether it was friend or foe. 

 

“It’s fine,” Clarke reassured them, her voice calm and indifferent. “Only Medusa has that power and this isn’t her.”

 

Anya, who’d closed her eyes at Titus’s warning, peeked through her eyelashes and saw Clarke glaring straight at the gorgon, body still very much fleshy. Realizing that danger wasn’t imminent, thanks to Clarke, she opened her eyes and drew her sword. 

 

Everyone else promptly readied their weapons and aimed them at the unwelcome guest.

 

“Well, well,” the gorgon hissed at Clarke, the snakes in her hair dangerously close to Clarke’s face. Clarke however didn’t even flinch. 

 

“The child is rather quick on her feet, I ssssee,” the gorgon hissed delightedly. “And sssssmart too. Makes for a much more exssssss-iting hunt. I will enjoy killing you, demigod.”

 

Clarke smirked back, shoving the monster away with her sword. “I’d like to see you try.”

 

Meanwhile, Anya could only focus on Clarke. The Greek blonde managed to not only detect the gorgon’s presence but also react quick enough to summon her sword and block its attack. 

 

Anya didn’t even have a clue they were even being followed. And judging from Lincoln and Titus’s reactions, neither did they. The Greeks had showed them up again. 

 

Anya growled underneath her breath. She’d underestimated the blonde bimbo for the last time. 

 

“You might as well tell you sister to come out too,” Clarke told the gorgon, surprising the Romans once more. “I know she’s hiding over there,” Clarke nodded to her left. 

 

The gorgon hissed, narrowing her eyes on Clarke. “You are a sharp one,” she stated as her sister came out of her hiding place to join her. 

 

“Euryale,” the second gorgon beamed at Clarke, eyeing Clarke as if she were a delicious meal. “Look at her ssssword!” 

 

The first gorgon eyed the Stygian Iron sword in Clarke’s hand before suddenly shrinking away as if burned. “Unlucky!” she screamed in fear. 

 

“Unlucky!” her sister repeated gleefully. 

 

“Shut up, Stheno,” Euryale yelled at her sister before returning her attention to Clarke. “I ssssee how you were able to detect usssss earlier now,” she stated, her yellow eyes raking in the length of Clarke’s sword distrustfully. “Death clingssss to you, heavy and dark, demigod.”

 

“Where’s your other sister?” Clarke asked, not in the mood to decipher any riddles from the gorgons. “Is she not here?” Medusa was the most dangerous of the three, given that she was the only gorgon sister who could turn people into stone. 

 

“Our sister is gone,” Euryale hissed. 

 

“Gone!” Stheno wailed. 

 

“She was defeated by some ssssstupid demigod four yearssss ago,” Euryale told them venomously. Clarke decided to keep mum about the fact that she was the one who’d cut off Medusa’s head.

 

“But enough talk,” Euryale stated, eyeing Clarke’s friends with crazy red eyes. “I am hungry!” she declared before launching herself past Clarke, away from the Stygian Iron sword, and towards Anya who easily intercepted the attack with her sword.  

 

“Hungry!” Stheno repeated delightfully, baring her fangs before being pierced by an arrow courtesy of Lincoln. She glared at the boy in distaste. “You will pay for that, boy,” she stated, charging straight at him, all the snakes on her head hissing venomously. 

 

Titus bolted into the woods without a single glance back. “Fuck this.”

 

“Hey!” Lincoln shouted after him, shooting another arrow at Stheno only to miss. He cursed and ran after Titus while trying to nock another arrow. “Where are you going? We have to stay to-” 

 

“Watch out behind you!” Octavia yelled in warning as Stheno advanced upon Lincoln. 

 

He turned around, too slowly, as several snake mouths latched onto his body and he dropped his bow. 

 

“Arrrrrgh!” Lincoln screamed out in pain, almost dropping to his knees. It was as if his entire chest was set on fire and he suddenly felt extremely weak. He reached down to pry Stheno off of him but it was no use. She was too strong. Lincoln could feel his blood slowly being sucked out of him. The sound of hissing filled his ears until it was the only thing he could hear. 

 

“Yummm!” Stheno grinned, blood dripping from her fangs and snakes. 

 

“Lincoln!” Octavia lunged at Stheno to get her off of him however Stheno removed herself just in time and Octavia’s sword caught nothing but air. Octavia ignored Stheno as she flew away. Her focus was on Lincoln only. 

 

“Are you alright?” Octavia inquired, immediately going to his side and holding him up. Her eyes roamed all over his chest trying to assess the seriousness of his injuries. She was no healer like Clarke, but even she knew when things looked bad. She tried to ignore the fact that he was now pressed up against her, gorgeous muscles and all. He was hot, and not in a good way. His skin burned as if he’d just spent hours in the forge. 

 

Her eyes flew to Stheno in case the gorgon tried to attack them while they were both defenseless and was relieved to see the gorgon engaged in combat with Raven while Clarke and Anya held off her sister. 

 

“I’m fine,” Lincoln grumbled, stumbling as he forced himself to remain standing. His mind spun but he forced himself to focus. He looked down at his chest. It was a bloody mess. He couldn’t even make out the holes where the snake fangs pierced into him. Lincoln looked back up without tending to his wounds. He’ll just deal with it later. 

 

He eyed the woods where Titus disappeared off to. “That idiot,” he muttered weakly. “Running away at the first sign of danger. We need to go after him before he gets lost or worse, runs into the danger zone.” He didn’t like Titus, but he wasn’t just going to abandon a member of the legion so easily. 

 

“You’re in no shape to go after him,” protested Octavia, her grip on him tightening. 

 

Lincoln didn’t give her a response. Instead, he mustered up all his energy and pushed her away from him. 

 

Octavia watched helplessly as he ran off to chase after Titus. “Why?” she growled in frustration. Splitting up was never smart. Not to mention that Titus couldn’t do shit and Lincoln was already injured. Before she could go too deep into turmoil about chasing after them or staying with the others, Stheno rushed past her, intent on finishing her meal. Raven was nowhere in sight. 

 

Stheno cackled gleefully as she chased after Lincoln. “Come here, come here, delicioussss demigod,” she sang. 

 

“Dammit,” Octavia cursed, having no choice but to chase after them, and pushed off her legs as fast as they would go. Lincoln was in no shape to fight, run,  _ and _ protect Titus. Octavia briefly felt a flash of concern for Raven and hoped that the girl was okay when Raven suddenly appeared out of nowhere and sided up next to her. 

 

“You okay?” Octavia asked hurriedly, eyes quickly glancing to her friend and scanning her body and up down. 

 

 “Just peachy,” Raven grumbled. “She got me on the arm,” said Raven, showing Octavia the gash on her left bicep as they ran along. “But it’s nothing serious.”

 

Reassured, Octavia sprinted forward - the gorgon was surprisingly fast - and with a mighty leap, jumped onto Stheno’s back, stabbing her sword through the gorgon’s torso. 

 

Stheno wailed in pain. She thrashed about and Octavia was forcefully thrown off. However, Raven was quickly atop of her and managed to impale her dagger into the gorgon’s throat before she too was thrown off. She tried to roll to a stand but tripped on an exposed root and fell to the ground clutching her ankle. 

 

“Fuck,” she cursed. When she looked up, Octavia was already back on her feet and swinging her sword ferociously at the now weakened gorgon. 

 

Octavia stepped forward, putting all her weight into her leg and twisted her body. She swung her sword, and in a quick practiced stroke, Stheno’s head flew off her body and landed next to Octavia’s foot. Then, the entire body exploded into golden dust. 

 

Octavia panted lightly, watching as the gold dust shimmered and disappeared, no doubt going back to Tartarus where Stheno will have to wait to be reformed again. Then, she turned her attention to Raven who’d already made herself a makeshift ankle cast from the nearby tree branches, leaves, and some spare string she kept with her in her toolbelt. 

 

“You okay?” she asked, walking up to her friend. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a bag of squashed emergency ambrosia squares, throwing Raven one. 

 

“I’ll manage,” said Raven, popping the ambrosia square into her mouth and chewing. “Not like it’s my first time,” she grumbled. And unfortunately, she didn’t think it’d be her last either. 

 

She grabbed onto Octavia’s outreached hand for support and hoisted herself up, careful to not strain her tender joint. She gently tested her weight against her injured ankle and when she felt no pain, cheered mentally. She’d still have to get Clarke to look at it later. 

 

Octavia hummed, relieved Raven wasn’t hurt too badly. The worry however, didn’t fade from her face. After all, there wasn’t a trace of either Lincoln and Titus. Nor were there any signs of Anya and Clarke. 

 

Raven suddenly bent down and picked up something. 

 

“What is it?” Octavia asked, peering over curiously. 

 

Raven held her hand out to her. In her palm were two vials of red liquid. “War spoils for defeating the gorgon,” Raven answered, eyeing the vials in her hand suspiciously. “If I remember correctly, one is a dangerous poison and the other is a powerful healing agent.”

 

“How do you tell which is which?” Octavia asked, scrutinizing the vials. “They look the exact same.”

 

Raven shrugged, pocketing them into her toolkit for later where they’d be safe. “No idea, but Clarke can probably tell them apart.” She looked up at Octavia, frowning slightly as she realized they were alone. Everything was quiet. There were no sounds of struggle or fighting. 

 

“What do we do now?” she asked, walking over to retrieve her dagger. She kept it unsheathed in her hand in case they ran into more trouble, which Raven had a feeling they would. This forest gave off a bad feeling, just like Mount Orthys did. Something in her gut told her to run.

 

“Did you happen to see what happened to Clarke and Anya?” Octavia asked matching Raven’s frown. She didn’t like the fact that they were all split up. It didn’t help that she only had Raven with her and they didn’t know a single thing about their surroundings. 

 

“Last I saw, Euryale pushed them that way,” answered Raven, nodding vaguely to the direction on their left. 

 

Octavia peered down that stretch of the forest. There was only silence and stillness. She then turned to right, her eyes searching for clues. Upon catching a small hint of red amongst green and brown, Octavia knelt down to get a closer look. 

 

Blood. 

 

She looked up. “You reckon it’s Lincoln’s?” she asked Raven. 

 

“Only one way to find out,” Raven shrugged, causing Octavia to sigh. 

 

“I don’t like this,” she told Raven, standing up. “I have a really bad feeling for some reason.”

 

“Same,” Raven agreed, a little too blase about their situation.“But what else can we do?”

 

“Right,” sighed Octavia. “Let’s just go find them, make sure Lincoln is okay, knock Titus unconscious and tie him up so he can’t pull this shit again. It’s his fault Lincoln’s hurt and we’re all separated,” said Octavia darkly. “And then we’ll somehow find Anya and Clarke without running into Reapers or Mountain Men.”

 

“Sounds like a plan,” Raven quipped cheerily. “I see no flaws. We are no more screwed than we usually are,” Raven grinned dryly. 

 

Octavia didn’t return the humor. 

 

“They’ll be fine,” Raven assured Octavia once she saw that her attempt at lightening the situation didn’t draw any reaction out of the girl. “Anya kicked your ass so she obviously can take care of herself and Clarke is Clarke. If they’re together, nothing short of a god can take them down,” said Raven, fully believing in her words. Clarke was extremely tough to kill and many gods  _ had  _ tried in the past. 

 

Octavia thinned her lips, her worries only a little appeased. “If they’re together.”

  
  
  
  
  
  



	10. I Don't Like You.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Anya don't like each other.  
> Octavia and Titus really don't like each other.  
> Lexa gets a visit from someone she also doesn't particularly like.

It took them way too long to kill Euryale. 

 

Anya blamed Clarke.

 

Naturally. 

 

The only reason it took so long was because as soon as Clarke got within two feet of the gorgon, Euryale would flee deeper into the forest -- her fear of Stygian Iron greater than her hunger. 

 

Eventually, Anya just had enough. She was done chasing after that Gorgon’s ass. 

 

“That’s it,” Anya growled, abruptly throwing her sword into the air. Clarke almost tripped over an exposed root in the ground trying to follow the movement of metal with surprised eyes. When Anya caught her weapon again, it’d changed into a spear. 

 

Clarke skid to a stop as Anya suddenly dug her heel into the ground and launched the spear into the air with terrifying speed. It was almost like watching the Olympics for javelin throwing. Clarke had no doubt Anya could’ve won gold with a throw like that.

 

The spear nailed Euryale in the back, piercing cleanly through her chest. The gorgon exploded immediately upon impact into a shower of gold dust. Euryale didn’t even have time to scream before her remains were swept back to Tartarus. 

 

“Nice shot,” murmured Clarke, eyes wide as she panted deeply to catch her breath. She stared at the spot where the gorgon used to be. Once again, she learned never to get on Anya’s bad side. She’d never seen anyone throw a spear so fast nor so accurately. 

 

Anya grunted at her and trudged over to pick up her spear. Clarke followed her, keeping her eyes on the ground. She’d read about gorgon blood during her studies as a healer in Camp Ark and was excited to finally get ahold of some. 

 

She found the two identical vials lying amongst the grassy ground and picked them up. Bringing them closer to her eyes, Clarke realized that there really was no telling the two apart physically. They looked exactly the same. She’d just finished putting them safely into her pockets when she straightened up and felt the cold blade of a sword pressed under her chin.

 

Blue eyes shot up and locked onto suspicious brown eyes. 

 

“Anya?” Clarke asked, shock and confusion evident in her voice. Cautiously, she raised her hands into the air to show that she meant no harm. 

 

“What is the meaning of this?” Clarke asked, each word stronger than the last as surprise gave way to anger. 

 

“I don’t trust you.” Anya glared at Clarke menacingly through narrowed eyes. “What game do you think you’re playing at Barbie?”

 

Clarke’s mind whirled for answers. What in Zeus’ name was Anya talking about? Why was Anya all of a sudden acting like this?

 

“What do you mean?” Clarke asked exasperatedly, schooling her expression into one of confusion to mask any fear she felt inside. If Anya wanted to, she had the power to behead Clarke before Clarke could even think to move away and Clarke very much liked her head attached to her body. 

 

Anya pressed closer. Clarke fought back a wince as the point of the sword nicked her throat. Warm liquid ran down her throat and Clarke glanced down to see blood dripping onto her shirt. She brought her gaze back up to meet Anya’s defiantly.

 

“This is ridiculous,” Clarke scoffed. The movement of her throat against the blade made every word painful. She tried to move away but Anya’s sword chased her neck like a magnet.  

 

“How did you know those gorgons were there?” Anya interrogated forcefully. “No one else did.”

 

Clarke leaned back with her neck, eyeing the Anya’s sharp blade apprehensively. Anya was threatening her with a sword just to get some answers? There surely wasn’t a need to go that far, was there?

 

“Everything that dies must first be alive,” Clarke answered reluctantly (like she had much of a choice), while keeping an eye on Anya’s grip on the sword in case the daughter of Bellona tried something. “As the daughter of Hades, I can sense when living things are dying or when they die. But in order to do that, I must first be able to sense living things,” Clarke explained slowly. “Everyone gives off a sort of essence, even monsters. That’s how I knew they were there.”

 

Anya narrowed her eyes. It seemed she wasn’t quite satisfied yet. 

 

“You know if you just want answers, I’ll be happy to answer them,” said Clarke dryly, grabbing the blade with her bare hand and forcing it away from her throat, just enough so she could talk without the point grating her skin. She ignored the immediate sting as metal cut into skin. Let it be noted that Anya kept her sword very sharp at all times. “There’s no need to be dramatic.”

 

Anya snorted, eyeing Clarke’s hold on her blade. “Who’s the one being dramatic now?”

 

Clarke raised her eyebrows coolly. “Don’t test me,” she warned Anya, letting her eyes darken in a fashion similar to her father’s. Her tolerance was running dangerously thin. 

 

Anya tried to force the sword back to Clarke’s throat but Clarke tightened her grip, ignoring how metal cut into flesh, and forced the blade to stay firmly in place. Blood dripped greedily to the earth below but Clarke didn’t even blink twice at it. Anya raised an eyebrow almost as if impressed by Clarke’s resolve.

 

“Why was the gorgon so afraid of you?” Anya asked, her suspicion turning into caution. 

 

Clarke rolled her eyes. Her little display of insolence prompted Anya to flick her wrist up and Clarke bit back a hiss as the blade dig deeper into her closed fist. Clarke glared at Anya, using her anger as a distraction from the pain. 

 

“She wasn’t afraid of me,” said Clarke bit out forcefully, shooting Anya a contempful look.  “She was afraid of my sword.”

 

“Explain,” Anya growled and Clarke sighed inwardly. 

 

“Stygian Iron is different from other types of metals,” Clarke explained, nodding slightly to her bracelets. “Both Celestial bronze and Imperial gold can only harm magical creatures while steel and other normal metals can only harm mortals. Stygian Iron however, doesn’t just injure both immortals and mortals alike. It literally drains the life essence out of its target and absorbs it.” Clarke’s gaze drifted over to the spot where the gorgon was last. 

 

“When you killed Euryale, she exploded into a shower of gold. Her remains are trapped in Tartarus until she reforms. However, if I were to hit her with Stygian Iron, she would disappear into my blade where she’ll be trapped and unable to reform in Tartarus unless someone breaks my sword,” explained Clarke. 

 

Clarke gave Anya a reproachful look. “Any more questions?” she asked wryly. Clarke had lost quite a bit of blood by this point - it ran down her entire forearm in little streams - but she wasn’t going to back down now. 

 

Anya raised her chin so she was looking down at Clarke as she assessed the blonde’s character. 

 

“Yes,” answered Anya with a small smirk. Clarke clenched her teeth in irritation. It was obvious that the tall brunette enjoyed having Clarke at her mercy. 

 

Anya nodded towards Clarke’s pocket. “What did you put in there just now? I saw you pick something up.”

 

Clarke opened her mouth to answer but was stopped as she felt the blade slide forward, slicing through her closed palm until it was pressed against her throat once more. Clarke bit down _hard_ on her tongue just to keep the hiss of pain from escaping her lips as her mind flashed white with pain. She would not allow herself to appear weak in front of Anya. Not now. 

 

“And don’t try to lie to me,” Anya demanded haughtily. 

 

“I wasn't going to,” Clarke grunted. Her eye twitched in annoyance. “It’s gorgon’s blood.”

 

“Then it should belong to me,” stated Anya. “I was the one who killed it after all.”

 

“Do you even know how to use gorgon’s blood?” Clarke retorted, tired of Anya’s antics. “One is a deadly poison and one is a powerful healing potion. They’re identical otherwise. Can you even tell the difference between the two? ”

 

“And you can?” Anya asked condescendingly with a quirked eyebrow. 

 

“I’m a healer,” Clarke stated dryly. “I have my ways.”

 

The two demigods coldly regarded each other for a long time, until finally, Anya eased her stance and dropped her sword. 

 

Clarke pushed the blade away and shot Anya a cross look. “You happy now?” she asked scornfully. Her hand was a bloody mess and it stung like a bitch. All because Anya here had severe trust issues. “Was that really necessary?”

 

“I had to make sure you weren’t a threat,” Anya shrugged like it was no big deal, but Clarke wasn’t having any of it. 

 

She rounded up on Anya. “No, you’re the one that’s a threat,” Clarke declared venomously. She was pissed. She’d left New York with nothing but good intentions to help the Romans despite her reservations, yet in the span of a single day, her loyalty and trustworthiness had been questioned a numerous amount of times by numerous people. She was done letting the Romans just walk all over her. 

 

“If we’re going to work together, you can’t pull that shit anymore,” said Clarke furiously. Blue eyes flashed dangerously at brown ones. “If you have questions you can just ask them like a normal person. You can’t just threaten someone every time you get suspicious _._ ”

 

Anya merely side eyed before taking off, leaving Clarke to glare at her back incredulously. 

 

“Unbelievable,” Clarke muttered under her breath. She watched as Anya walked further away from her, not bothering to look back even once. Clarke felt her anger grow warm within her gut, swirling wildly like a brewing storm. 

 

She forced it down. Now was not the time to lose her anger. 

 

Clarke recalled all those times she’d been rebuffed by the goddess of wisdom and war. 

 

 _‘Grudges are dangerous for children of Hades,’_ Athena said to her once. _‘It is the most common fatal flaw for the children of the Underworld, and it might just prove to be your undoing as well.’_

 

Clarke took a deep breath and tried to focus on the importance of the mission. _‘This is for both of our camp’s sakes,’_ Clarke told herself. She finally looked down at her hand and sighed at the sight that welcomed her. She clenched and unclenched her fist, watching almost mesmerized as blood oozed out of the wound and stained the grass. 

 

Clarke didn’t bother bandaging the wound or eating any ambrosia. 

 

It would heal soon enough on its own anyway. 

 

* * *

 

“You sure we didn’t pass by here already?” Raven sighed, eyeing their surroundings. It was just trees, trees, and more trees as far as the eye could see.

 

Octavia frowned. They’d been walking for at least ten minutes, however, they still couldn’t find Lincoln or Titus and it was getting harder and harder to make out the blood trail. Octavia had no idea what that meant for Lincoln, but she grew increasingly more worried with each passing minute. 

 

“Should we -” 

 

“HELP! GET OFF ME YOU SAVAGE! SOMEONE HELP!”

 

Octavia and Raven only hesitated for a second as they gave each other knowing looks before sprinting towards the direction of the voice. 

 

They ran into a clearing where they found Titus pinned to the ground by a giant deranged looking man with horns and gross bumps all over the face and body. 

 

“Oh gross,” Raven paused at the sight, horrified. Her face twisted in disgust. “What the fuck is that?”

 

“HELP ME!” Titus yelled having finally spotted them, thrashing about wildly. “DON’T JUST STAND THERE! GET HIM OFF OF ME!” 

 

As much as Octavia didn’t like the guy, she didn’t waste any time in rushing forward. “Hey ugly!” she yelled at the monster. “That’s right, I’m talking to you, you mutated overgrown tree root. Take this!” She charged and thrust her sword upwards just as the monster brought its arm down on her. The blade went cleanly through. There was a split second when the monster howled in pain as metal embedded itself into flesh. Octavia didn’t even have time to celebrate her small victory when she was suddenly swatted out of the way like a fly. 

 

Pain shot through her side as its arm came swinging down hard against her ribcage. She landed roughly on her right shoulder and tasted blood as she accidentally bit down on her tongue. 

 

“What the fuck,” Octavia spat out a mouth full of blood. She took stock of the damage done to her body before staring at the monster in shock. That hurt more than she’d expected. Whatever that monster was, its strength was inhumane. 

 

To her horror, the monster didn’t even seem to be hindered at all by the wound in its arm. It ripped the sword out of its arm without any expression of pain and tossed it over his shoulder, his gaze coming to land on the fallen figure of a defenseless Octavia. 

 

Titus scrambled backwards until he was standing safely behind Octavia and Raven as his human shields. 

  
“What kind of monster is that?” Raven asked Titus incredulously. She’d known Octavia since they were nine years old and she knew just how much of a tank the daughter of Aphrodite was despite her appearances. She’d never seen Octavia get knocked down so easily. 

 

“That would be a Reaper,” Titus muttered, keeping a close eye on the Reaper just in case he needed to bolt out of there. 

 

“ _Di immortales,_ ” Octavia cursed, as she pushed herself onto her knees An intense pain shot up her side and she was eighty percent sure she had a fractured rib or two. Damn those fuckers. “Those are the Reapers?” she asked. “You mean they used to be-”

 

“Roman demigods? Part of the Legion? Yes,” Titus finished for her. 

 

“What in Zeus’s name did they do to him?” Raven could not stop staring. The Reaper barely resembled the person he must’ve been before his capture. Its red eyes met hers and Raven wasted no time running out of its way as it charged at her. Its slow clumsy speed was the only thing that saved her from getting mauled. 

 

“Maybe save that conversation for a later date,” said Octavia urgently as she scrambled to her feet, ignoring her aching side. “We have to find a way to stop him!”

 

The Reaper charged at them but both Raven and Octavia leapt out of its way. 

 

“Hey!” Titus complained, scrambling after them helplessly. “Don’t just leave me like that!”  
  


“You were the one who ran away by yourself in the first place!” Octavia screamed at him. “Where is Lincoln?”

 

“Fight first, talk later!” Titus screamed back. 

 

Octavia growled in displeasure at his response but focused her attention on the Reaper all the same. 

 

It ran into a tree and punched a hole halfway into the trunk like it was made of cardboard. Raven paled at the display of power. 

 

“Do they have _any_ weaknesses?” Raven shouted to Titus as she came to a stop to face the Reaper. 

 

“Not really,” Titus murmured. 

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Octavia mumbled. “Hundreds of years fighting these things and you have nothing to account for it?” 

 

Titus shot her a glare. “They are sensitive to sound,” he supplied unsurely. 

 

Raven perked up. “I can work with that!” She turned to address Octavia. “Can you distract him for me? I just need two minutes and I can come up with something.”  
  


“Two minutes,” Octavia bit out as the Reaper ran at her. She wouldn’t be able to last longer than that. Her eyes flickered to her discarded sword and sprinted towards it. She needed to get to it if she wanted to stand a fighting chance. 

 

“Thanks!” Raven ran to the side, dropped onto her knees and began tinkering inside her tool belt, pulling out all sorts of wires, batteries, and oscillators. 

 

Octavia ducked and scooped up her sword before whirling around to face the Reaper. Her speed advantage was the only thing that saved her head from being punched off. Octavia swerved to the left and with a powerful stroke, cut off the Reaper’s left arm. 

 

The disfigured limb landed onto the grass next to Octavia’s feet. Octavia fought back a grimace as warm Reaper blood splattered her body. 

 

Still the Reaper stood. 

 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Octavia muttered, watching the Reaper howl in pain. It might’ve been hurt but it was still very much alive. It turned to glare at Octavia with its beady red eyes. 

 

“Come on ugly,” Octavia muttered under her breath, determined to keep its attention on her and not Raven. “It’s just you and me.”

 

The Reaper roared at her and charged. Octavia ducked under his arm and swung at his chest, however, the Reaper caught her sword midswing with his other hand and yanked it out of her grip, almost ripping her arm out of its socket in the process. 

 

As she lost her footing, the Reaper punched her so hard in the chest, Octavia blacked out for a few seconds. When her mind cleared, she found herself lying face down on the ground. All of her instincts yelled at her to move and just in time too as the Reaper’s foot missed her face by mere centimeters as she rolled to a crouching stance. 

 

“Fucking _Hades,_ this hurts,” Octavia muttered to herself, desperately trying to distance herself from the Reaper.  Her chest erupted in a sharp pain with every step. She clutched her side as she ran, fighting through the pain with pure will power. “Raven!” she called out desperately. “How much longer?”

 

“Just…a little...more…” Raven gritted back, the struggle evident in her tone. 

 

“Hurry up!” Octavia urged as she quickly hid behind a tree in order to dodge the Reaper’s attacks. The Reaper roared in anger and Octavia continued her escape from its wrath. She noticed Titus out of the corner of her eyes trying to make himself invisible by covering himself with spare leaves and branches and mentally cursed the Roman. What a useless bastard. 

 

“I’m trying!” Raven responded. “I just need - Done!”

 

 _‘And not a moment too soon,’_ Octavia thought as her knee suddenly gave away from under her. She toppled to the ground and felt the Reaper loom over her. _‘This is it.’_

 

“Cover your ears!” Raven warned. Just as Octavia brought her hands to her ears, a loud, high screeching sound blasted through the air. The Reaper fell to the ground wriggling in pain. 

 

“Kill it now!” Titus ordered from his hiding spot. 

 

Octavia didn’t need to be told twice. She ran to grab her sword from the ground before slamming it forcefully through the Reaper’s chest. The Reaper roared in pain but Octavia wasn’t done yet. She twisted the sword, wrenching it deeper into the wound. The Reaper continued to struggle, but Octavia stayed firm. 

 

After a few seconds, all movement stopped. 

 

Octavia took in a shaky breath, finally able to breathe properly again. She relaxed her muscles and shakily stood up. The pain in her chest and side ever still present. 

 

“Is it dead?” Raven asked, shutting down her temporary sound emitter. She trotted over to stand next to Octavia and looked down at the bloody mess that used to be a Reaper. 

 

“I think so,” Octavia answered breathlessly. She scanned the still body of the Reaper. It didn’t explode into gold dust like the other monsters they’d ever fought. Its body just laid there. There was no denying that the Reaper was not a monster but a turned Roman legionnaire. The thought brought a heavy feeling to Octavia. Before she could dwell on it too much however, she turned around, her eyes instantly landing on Titus. 

 

“You,” she seethed. “Where’s Lincoln?”

 

Titus’s eyes widened. He stammered for a response as she inched towards him menacingly. 

 

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Octavia growled. The adrenaline from her previous bout with the Reaper only fueled her anger and her pain was once again forgotten. “Where. Is. Lincoln?” 

 

“I don’t know,” Titus stammered, tripping over his feet in a hasty attempt to distance himself from Octavia’s growing wrath.

 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Octavia challenged. 

 

“He got taken by them!” Titus admitted cowardly as Octavia towered over his figure. He realized too late it was the wrong thing to say as Octavia’s eyes darkened with rage. The next thing he knew, he was pushed against a tree with a sword to his throat. 

 

“You _let_ them take Lincoln?” Octavia demanded, furious. 

 

“Of course I didn’t let them!” Titus protested. “I hate the Reapers and the Mountain Men. Why would I ever-”

 

Octavia was in no mood to listen to his pathetic excuses. 

 

“But you didn’t do anything, did you?” she asked, pressing forward, her voice low and threatening. There was a dangerous glint to her eyes and Titus had a feeling that she might _actually_ hurt him. His eyes flew over Octavia’s shoulder to meet Raven’s eyes in a beg for help but the Latina girl was unsympathetic to his plight. 

 

“What was I supposed to do?” Titus complained with a scowl. “I can’t fight.”

 

“You should’ve never come on this quest, that’s what you should’ve done,” Octavia stated resentfully. She was beyond infuriated by Titus at this point. “You should consider yourself lucky I don’t just do what you did to Lincoln and leave you alone to fend for yourself.”

 

In an act of immense self control, Octavia retracted her sword. Instead, she shoved the Roman boy into the ground, ignoring his grunt of pain. He deserved more and worse for abandoning his friend. It was his fault that the group got split in the first place. And look at where that landed them.

 

“Now what?” Raven spoke up. “We don’t know where Clarke or Anya is, you’re terribly hurt, and Lincoln is missing." She paused and Octavia could tell from the awkward expression on her face that Raven didn't know how to phrase her next question. "Do you think there’s still hope for him?”

 

“There’s no way. No one escapes the Mountain,” Titus piped up from the ground, wincing at the bruises Octavia had inflicted on him. 

 

“Shut up, nobody asked you,” Octavia spat at the boy disdainfully. 

 

“Well you might want to listen to me if you want to live,” Titus sneered back, eyeing Octavia’s beaten state. “Our best bet is to go back to Camp Polis.”

 

“And abandon Anya and Clarke?” Raven asked bewildered, eyes narrowing at the Roman. 

 

Octavia whirled around at Titus once more, sword at the ready. “You really haven’t learned your lesson, have you?” she threatened.

 

“We need backup,” Titus spat back. “You saw how we were barely a match for one Reaper. There are hundreds and the closer we get to the Mountain, the more we’ll run into. It doesn't matter if we have your little whistle or not. They're going to overpower us eventually. Those things don't  _feel._ Not to mention the Mountain Men themselves. You have no idea what they're capable of yet. And we don’t have a single clue where your friend is. We’ll be dead if we don’t go back!”

 

“Listen here you _kommáti skatá,_ ” Octavia pressed forward, ready to teach Titus another lesson when Raven cut in. 

 

“You know, I hate to say it,” said Raven sounding resigned. “But he’s right.”

 

Octavia suddenly directed her anger towards her. “ _What?!_   What’s _wrong_ with you? Why in _Hades_ name are you agreeing with him?”

 

“Look at you!” Raven pointed out, unwavering under Octavia's anger. “That Reaper almost killed you! He might be a terrible prick for abandoning his friend but he isn’t wrong! You need medical help right now!”

 

“Hey,” Titus protested. “I am right here, you know.”

 

Both girls promptly ignored him. 

 

“We still have some ambrosia and nectar left. I’ll be fine. We have your sound transmitter. That'll take care of the Reapers. We can’t just leave Clarke,” Octavia insisted. She hated to even think how the blonde was right now, if she was even still alive. 

 

“Nectar and ambrosia can only do so much when your ribs are broken,” Raven argued logically. 

 

“All the more reason we need to find Clarke,” stated Octavia stubbornly. “She can heal me.”

 

“How are we going to find her? Look at you! You can barely stand!” Raven fought back, desperately urging the girl to listen to reason. “We’re not abandoning Clarke. We’re coming back with backup, which we desperately need. Besides, you and I know Clarke. She can handle herself. Right now, we need to get you back and get your ribs checked out. We can’t help Clarke in our state.”

 

Octavia frowned at Raven. Her displeasure at the idea of leaving Clarke alone with the Reapers, Mountain Men and a Roman showed clearly on her face. 

 

“Please,” Raven begged. “Clarke is smart, and she can shadow travel. If she’s ever in danger, she can just take Anya and go back to Camp Polis, which is the smart thing to do considering we were supposed to be back hours ago.”

 

Octavia sighed heavily. Raven was right. Now that she’d calmed down, it was much harder to ignore the incessant pain in her body. To be honest she wasn’t even sure she would be able to ride her own pegasus back to camp in this state. And Clarke was smart and capable. She could take care of herself, right? Heavens knew just how relentless Clarke is when it came to surviving deathly ordeals. 

 

 “Fine,” Octavia relented. “But if Clarke is not back at Polis, we come back immediately.”

 

“With backup,” Raven agreed with a solemn nod. 

 

“Wonder why they haven’t already sent backup,” Octavia commented with a frown.

 

“Scouting missions usually aren't that dangerous. My guess is that they probably think we're just taking our time," Titus answered. 

 

Octavia shot him a grim look. “You’re lucky we need you to find our way back to Polis, because I have no qualms about leaving you as a Reaper snack just like what you did to Lincoln.”

 

“That goes double to you,” Titus scowled back.

 

“Goodness,” Raven muttered under her breath. It would be a miracle if they all got out of this mess without killing each other. “Come on. Let’s retrace our steps. Hopefully, our pegasi are still there. The sooner we get out of here, the sooner we can get someone to look at that-” she gestured at Octavia's entire body - "and find Clarke."

 

Octavia grumbled incoherently but agreed with the plan. She gestured from Titus to walk in front of her so she could keep an eye on him at all times and kept a hand on her sword the entire time.

 

As they walked back to where they landed, Raven threw a quick prayer to the gods. 

 

_‘Please, let Clarke be safe.’_

 

* * *

 

Lexa paced back and forth inside her office. Her eyes worriedly flitted to the clock on her desk. 

 

5:29 pm. 

 

It’d been nearly five and a half hours. The scouting mission was supposed to take one hour, two at most. Yet here she was, five and a half hours later and still no sign of return from Anya, Lincoln, Titus or the Greeks. Lexa bit her lip. If anything happened to Anya...

 

Unable to deal with the waiting anymore, Lexa decided she needed to something, anything. She would never forgive herself if something happened to Anya and all she did in the meantime was wear down the floor of her office with her pacing. However, as she stepped out of her office, she wasn't standing in the familiar hallway of the legislative building. 

 

Instantly, Lexa knew she was dreaming. Day-dreaming. 

 

She’d experienced enough of these hyper realistic visions to know it was no ordinary dream. Someone had summoned her here. 

 

Lexa surveyed her surroundings. She was standing in a garden full of roses and shrubs decorated with white little flowers. A pleasant perfume scented the air, not completely overwhelming yet engulfing at the same time. It smelled vaguely like a mix of vanilla and rose. She heard the faint sounds of water trickling in the distance and spotted a marble statue of Cupid mid flight and bow notched, ready to fire his love arrows. 

 

Lexa’s blood grew cold. She knew then, who’d summoned her here and instantly felt her walls come up. 

 

This particular goddess had been the bane of her past -- one she hoped she’d never have to see again. 

 

Lexa should’ve known better. She was never the lucky type. 

 

“Welcome to my garden, Lexa Woods. I hope you find it to your liking,” a smooth velvety voice captured Lexa’s attention and she turned until she was faced the speaker. 

 

Lexa forced herself to breathe and calm the beating of her heart at the sight of her visitor. 

 

“Venus.”

 

The goddess of love stood before her looking as impeccable as ever. Long blonde curly hair fell past her shoulders, reflecting the sunlight and giving the goddess a halo effect. The goddess’s athletic figure - perfect in every curve and angle - white milky skin, and _very_ well endowed features were barely hidden by the thin Roman dress she was wearing. The most striking part of her beauty were her eyes of course. 

 

As much as Lexa hated the goddess she couldn’t help but stare. Crystal blue eyes, eyes so very blue,  that held both power and seduction gazed upon Lexa’s figure, making her feel bare and vulnerable. Just having those eyes look upon her made Lexa heat up and she hated it and loved it at the same time. 

 

No other god or goddess had quite an effect on Lexa as the goddess of love, not even Lexa’s father, the king of the gods himself.

 

“Why have you brought me here?” Lexa gritted out, barely holding in her anger, her _pain._ Venus was one of many, permanent, reminders of her failed love life, her rash younger self, and the pain she’d experienced before learning to hide her heart with her mind. 

 

So no, Lexa was not glad to see the goddess of love again. 

 

“Do not let the past drag you down, dear Child of Jupiter,” Venus smiled, her pearly whites blinding and perfect. “Love is complicated. It is always evolving, changing. It dies, and it begins.  I did promise you an epic love story, did I not?”

 

“I don’t _want_ your stupid epic love story,” Lexa growled, furious that the goddess was so blase about the pain she’d caused her. The “ _I want Costia,”_ went unsaid. And suddenly, Lexa found herself unsure. Did she still want Costia? Of course she did. Not a day went by without the regret of what she did to Costia, of what happened to Costia, weighing her down. Yet now, standing before Venus, Lexa couldn’t say she was sure. 

 

“Stop it!” Lexa growled at the goddess. “Is this your doing?” she demanded, outraged that Venus would dare try to manipulate her feelings again, that Venus would make her question her feelings for Costia. Lexa _knew_ she loved Costia. _Loves._

 

“Don’t fight it, young one,” Venus smiled a knowingly. Lexa wanted so badly to wipe it off her face. “Love will prevail eventually. It always does.”

 

“No it doesn’t,” Lexa muttered bitterly. She knew firsthand that love didn’t always prevail. Her life was proof of that. She also knew of how even the greatest of heroes were driven to their dreadful fates, all because they were blinded by love. 

  
Love was more harm than good. It was one of the few things Titus had hammered into her head, saying how love was not meant for Lexa, how it was the gods’ will. 

 

Mind over heart. Duty over love. 

 

Lexa didn’t always believe Titus - he was a fool at the best of times. But then the gods showed her truth and she learned. 

 

Venus sighed. “You will learn,” she stated with a weight that carried the inevitable. “One day, you will learn what a truly terrifying force love is and by then it will be too late.” Her blue eyes pierced into Lexa’s, stunning the demigod. “There is no fighting love, darling. It is as inevitable as death.”

 

The word death snapped something within Lexa. 

 

Lexa had fought Titans, toppled Kronos’ throne, defeated a gorgon at the age of nine, outsmarted a Sphinx at eleven, engaged in a one on one fight against the Queen of the Amazons, and yet, nothing terrified her more than the goddess of love. 

 

“Why did you bring me here?” Lexa stressed once more, growing impatient. She hoped Venus had more reason to appear before her than to discuss her doomed love life. Otherwise, she didn’t want to stay another second. She had other things to worry about, namely making sure Anya, Lincoln, Titus, and her new allies made it back safely. 

 

Venus’s face turned serious. The sky seemed to darken with her expression. “The animosity between the Greeks and Romans run deep. The blood spilled from both sides cannot be so easily paid and forgiven. The Fates however have deemed the fates of your two camps intertwined. Your meeting with the Greek demigod, the cursed daughter of Hades, has set things in motion in the world that the gods do not understand and as you know, we fear what we cannot control.”

 

Lexa frowned at the goddess. “Clarke? Do you mean Clarke? You’re saying that the universe is about to be thrown into chaos because Clarke and I met?” Well, that was quite dramatic of the universe, wasn’t it?

 

Venus’s blue eyes swirled with thoughts unreadable to Lexa. “You two meeting was as inevitable as is the chaos that will follow. It was bound to happen. I’ve told you Lexa Woods, since our very first meeting, that some things cannot be stopped.”

 

Lexa gritted her teeth. “Yes, I’ve come to learn as such.” Not willingly, and never painlessly. “So what?” asked Lexa defiantly. “You came here just to tell me that Clarke and I are the Fate’s newest playthings? Tell me something I don’t know.” 

 

Her entire life, Lexa had felt like a puppet to the gods and their Fates. Yet, she’d always played the role willingly, fulfilling it to the best of her abilities and always unquestioningly. Lexa knew the role she was given to play and she played it flawlessly.

 

Blue eyes hardened and flashed with warning. Lexa retreated, if only slightly, in her aggression. 

 

“You know what you must do next,” Venus stated simply. 

 

Lexa stared at the goddess of love. Why were all of the Olympians so vague all the time? You’d think after thousands of years of being alive, they would have better communication skills but no, they were worse at talking than Anya with a grudge. 

 

“The Mountain,” she concluded after a few seconds.

 

Venus nodded. 

 

“It will fall?” Lexa asked, cursing herself as she let slip the slightest hint of hope and uncertainty in her voice.

 

“Perhaps,” came Venus’s frustrating answer. Before Lexa could voice as such however, the goddess suddenly seemed to grow until she was taller, stronger, and brighter. Lexa looked away, knowing that the goddess was reverting to her true self. 

 

Suddenly, Venus’s voice filled her head. 

 

_“Children of old foes, blood and soul reap,_

_Blessed Apollo holds the cure to red sleep._

 

_Against allied forces, one side must fall._

_A single choice made between one and all._

 

_A love betrayed and a love saved,_

_Rise, Commander of Death from endless grave.”_

 

 

There was a flash of bright light and Lexa clenched her eyes closed. 

 

 _‘Remember,’_ Venus’s voice played in Lexa’s head. It sounded distant as if the goddess was growing further and further away. _‘Do not fight love.’_

 

When she opened them again, she was standing in the hallway just outside of her office. 

 

A thousand thoughts ran through her head. She just received an official prophecy. 

 

The Mountain will fall. 

 

Her and Clarke’s fates are intertwined. 

 

The Mountain will fall. 

 

The prophecy spoke of love. 

 

The Mountain will fall. 

 

The prophecy also spoke of death. 

 

And Clarke was still missing, along with Anya, Lincoln, Titus, Octavia, and Raven. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Octavia calls Titus a kommáti skatá, she's calling him a piece of shit in Greek. I just used Google Translate so don't come after me if it's wrong.


End file.
